#we had like four whole cops there

[bonnieisaway]

there is nobody more insufferable than a cop aside from the people who do not comprehend the "do not talk to a cop" rule whilst a cop is present and you're elbowing them in the ribs as hard as you conceivably fucking can yet they are still yapping

rule #1 of the world is that love is stored in the kitty cat

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART THREE

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 1.2K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, mention of hospitals/emergency rooms, honestly pretty fluffy, cussing

A/N ✦ i've been on a writing streak the last few days, i'm already working on part four, hopefully should post it by tomorrow :)

PART TWO »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

You felt like absolute shit. Your whole body ached and waves of nausea flowed through you. Slowly you lifted your heavy eyelids and looked around. Nat, Clint, Thor, and Wanda all sat around you as you laid in a hospital bed. 

“Y/N’s awake.”, Wanda said to the others. 

Everyone looked towards you. 

“How you feeling?”, Clint asked.

“Awful.”, you groaned, “What the fuck even happened?”

Your memories of the previous night were a blur. The group looked around to each other silently debating who would fill you in.

“Do you remember anything?”, Nat questioned.

“I remember up to when we were on the dance floor but after that, nothing.”

Nat relayed the previous night's events to you, adding details of what happened after you blacked out. Like the fact that Bucky had personally driven you and Nat to the emergency room, and slipped one of the nurses a couple hundred to make sure you got the best treatment possible. 

“He also had me give him your phone number so he could check up on you.”

Internally you lit up, thrilled at the thought of the handsome man caring about your wellbeing. However, something cut through your mind, temporarily interrupting your joy.

“Did he get in trouble for fighting that guy?”

“There was no way in hell that guy was going to be calling the cops after what he tried to do to you so no trouble there and Bucky can’t get in trouble with the club seeing as he owns it.”, Nat said, “I found that out on our drive to the hospital because I had the same thought as you.”

Your brain was trying to process all of the information you had just been given, almost feeling overwhelmed by it.

A soft knock on the door turned all of your attention that way. A blonde nurse in baby blue scrubs was leaning her shoulder against the door as she opened it, a large vase of pink roses and tulips clutched in her hands.

“Miss (Y/L/N), these just got delivered for you.”, she smiled at you.

Thor stood and retrieved the flowers from her. Setting them down on the thick window ledge, he plucked the card from the stand it sat on, and handed it to you. You opened the envelope shakily, your body was still not fully recovered from last night. 

Hey Sweetheart, Let me know when you get out of the hospital, I sent you a text so you have my number. Hope you’re okay. I’m here if you need anything ━ Bucky

Your face blossomed with a blush.

“Who are they from?”, Clint asked.

With a wide grin you responded, “Bucky.”

A few hours later and the emergency room doctors finally cleared you to go home. Your friends helped you gather your belongings, Clint and Wanda telling you goodbye as you guys reached the parking lot. Thor kindly gave you and Nat a ride back home to your apartment.

After dropping you guys off he yelled from his car window, "Bye guys! Love you both!"

"Bye Thor, we love you too!", you and Nat yelled back to him as you continued up the sidewalk and into your apartment building.

After you crossed the threshold of your home, you immediately headed to your bedroom.

“I’m going to go shower and get this hospital smell off of me.”, you told Nat.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything, I’ll be out here watching TV.”

Entering your room, you immediately shed your dress from the previous night, tossing it into your dirty clothes hamper. You dug through your dresser selecting a pair of baggy grey sweats and one of your favorite oversized shirts.

After grabbing your clothes you head to your bathroom. Entering, you set your outfit and phone down on the sink, going to turn your shower on. You twist the hot water knob to the on position, the sound of trickling water filling the room.

You moved back to the counter grabbing your phone. As you unlocked it you saw a text from a number you didn’t have saved.

UNKOWN: Let me know when you’re back home, I’ve been worried about you. 

UNKOWN: This is Bucky btw. 

You smiled, saving his name in your phone, and shot him back a text.

Y/N: I’m back home, still not feeling amazing, but I’ll survive. Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.

Bucky quickly sent you a response. 

BUCKY: I hoped they might cheer you up a bit.  Y/N: They definitely did. Also thank you for last night, I appreciate it more than you know. 

The typing bubble popped up and disappeared several times. You closed out of your messages, opening your music streaming app and turning on your favorite playlist. Locking your phone you set it back down on the counter and stepped into the shower. 

You felt some of the tension in your back slowly fade as warm water trickled down your body. After relaxing in the hot water for what you deemed long enough, you began to wash yourself, scrubbing a little too hard, trying to get the smell of the hospital off of you as well as the metaphorical feeling of Caleb's hands.

Once you felt that you were sufficiently clean, you grabbed a light green towel off the wall, wrapping it around your body. 

You reached for your phone again.

BUCKY: I’m just glad you're safe.

You saw that several minutes had passed in between that text and the following ones he sent.

BUCKY: Go to dinner with me? BUCKY: Only if you want to of course. I don’t want you to think you have to say yes just because I helped you yesterday. 

‘Men that respect boundaries are so hot’, you thought to yourself.

Y/N: Of course, I would really like that. 

You set your phone down again. Drying your hair and doing your skincare. After you finished, you exited the bathroom and flopped down onto your fluffy pink comforter. Exhaustion started taking over you and you crawled under your blankets, snuggling into your pillows.

Your phone buzzed beside your head.

BUCKY: Let me know when you’re free next, I have the perfect place we can go. Y/N: I’m going to take a nap, but when I wake up I’ll check my schedule and see what days I’m not doing anything.  Bucky: Perfect, sleep well sweetheart, ttyl.

You smiled softly, butterflies forming in your stomach. 

You reached for your TV remote, turning on a show to play as background noise while you slept. Your eyes closed, feeling very heavy and within minutes you were asleep.

Nat eventually came into your room and woke you up, letting you get a five hour nap in. She had made the two of you dinner, spaghetti and garlic toast. Your stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of food. Laughing, you followed her into the kitchen.

You pulled up your calendar on your phone, seeing when your next day off was, and texting the information to Bucky.  

Y/N: Just looked and my next day off is Tuesday. BUCKY: I’ll pick you up at 7? Y/N: That works for me :) I’ll send you my address.

After texting him your address you put your phone away, enjoying your dinner with your roommate as you guys watched TV. The two of you made it through several episodes of your show, before Nat started yawning, saying she was going to head to bed. You both went to the kitchen, rising your dishes and headed down the hall into your respective rooms.

You fell asleep, bubbling with excitement over your upcoming date with Bucky.

PART FOUR

I AM OPENING A TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

OHHHHHH.

One moment while I find that gif of Tom Hanks -

Found it!

OVERHATED CHARACTERS POLL: Owen Strand (9-1-1: Lone Star)

Feel free to explain your position in the comments or tags, but any harassment, over-the-top fighting, or personal attacks will result in you being blocked. Do not attack real people, be they fans or creators, over fictional characters.

[starshideurfics]

Off the Deep End

part one

steddie, omegaverse, cw: underage, scentmates, mdni 🔞

Newly-presented omega Steve comes back to school at the end of his freshman year, walks past Eddie’s locker and the scent makes him slick his pants so much it looks like he pissed himself. His math teacher takes pity on him and sends him to the nurse’s office.

Eddie is also in the nurse’s office—some jocks jumped him—where he’s waiting with a bloody nose and a black eye developing.

Steve mewls when he realizes he found the source of the scent, slick running down his leg.

Eddie can’t smell so well, on account of the bloody nose, but he’s suddenly got a lapful of horny freshman. Steve is moaning, “Alpha!” all pathetic and needy and rubbing his leaking pussy through four layers over Eddie’s soft cock.

Eddie looks like he pissed himself by the time Steve is pulled off; the nurse actually has to call the gym teachers for help since every time she tries to get Steve to stop molesting Eddie he growls at her. It takes two full grown alphas to pull Steve from Eddie’s lap and into the little room with a cot at the side of the nurse’s office.

She’s already called Steve’s mother.

She has Eddie call home too, and he tries to get her to let him walk home, but she insists that he needs to be released to a parent or guardian.

Wayne sounds tired when he answers, obviously woken by the phone ringing. Eddie only tells him about the bloody nose, and his uncle says he’ll be there soon.

Eddie may not be able to smell, but Wayne sure can. He doesn’t ask beyond a simple, “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“No one else hurt?”

“I kneed Chris Baker in the junk…”

“Chet Baker’s boy is an asswipe, like his daddy. But none of your… friends were in the fight, too?”

“Wayne! It wasn’t a fight!”

“Okay. We’ll get some frozen peas on that eye when we get home, you can lay down for a bit.”

💦💦💦

Mrs. Harrington is MORTIFIED when she picks up Steve from school.

Steve is half-feral and inconsolable because his alpha is gone.

It makes it easy for his pediatrician to proscribe strong blockers.

Steve can barely scent anyone at school the next day. Lucky for him, Eddie spent the night huffing the slick stains on his jeans and jerking off until his dick was chafed.

He brings Steve a perfect rock, flecked with pyrite, and asks if he wants to go to the movies that weekend.

Steve wears a skirt for the first time on their movie date, and pays no attention to Friday the 13th Part 2 because Eddie fingers him through the whole thing.

Steve soaks Eddie’s hand and the theater seat, and they sneak out as quickly as they can before the credits roll because of the mess.

💦💦💦

Steve loses his virginity in the flatbed of Wayne Munson’s pickup truck.

Eddie borrowed it for their first date of the summer, as soon as Steve got back from the fancy, omegas only sleep-away camp his parents insisted upon sending him to, hoping time away would end his obsession with the Munson boy.

It clearly didn’t work.

Steve wrote Eddie a letter every week for six weeks. He also grew an inch a week. He came home almost as tall as Eddie, giggling with delight when Eddie picked him up and he realized he had to bend his head down to settle his nose to the smoky-spicy scent gland at his neck.

Eddie takes Steve to Benny’s for burgers, both of them fighting their teenage metabolisms, splitting a massive plate of chili-cheese fries, and getting malts—strawberry for Eddie, a black and white for Steve.

Benny’s working, the gruff omega has a soft spot for Wayne, and by extension for Eddie. He brings them a piece of his mama’s peanut butter pie, on the house, and Steve makes the most unintentionally pornographic moans when he takes his first bite.

Eddie pays the bill, and after tip he has $3.27 to his name. He’s gonna need a job, since half a summer of extra chores got him one dinner date.

Eddie considers driving to the quarry, but he knows the cops patrol there pretty regularly.

The truck has all-wheel drive, so he commits and drives into a little, well-hidden clearing in the woods. He’s fully planning to stick to kissing and hand stuff, but Steve crawls into his lap & hits the horn with his ass, startling them both.

“We should move somewhere with more space,” he mumbles against Steve’s lips.

“Okay,” Steve agrees breathlessly.

Pushing open the door, they carefully climb down from the cab, the ground is a bit wet, and there’s a patch that looks suspiciously like poison ivy. Eddie leads them to the back of the pickup, and gives Steve a hand up into the truck bed.

He spreads out his jacket and guides Steve to lay back on it, protecting his head. He’s still planning to just kiss for now, but Steve’s fingers go straight to Eddie’s belt buckle.

“Please, Eddie,” he whines, biting his lip and looking up at Eddie with heavy-lidded eyes. “Need you.”

Steve brings Eddie’s hand down to press against his crotch, to feel how wet he is already, how badly he wants this.

Eddie nods, struggles to swallow, having to remind himself to breathe, and pulls out his wallet for the condom he’s kept there since he presented and Wayne bought him a box.

He manages to get his whole dick in before he blows his wad, but barely.

Steve doesn’t mind. He clings to Eddie, kisses him. His first time is still good—still special—because it’s with his alpha. With Eddie.

And next time will be better.

💦💦💦

Steve spends the rest of the summer wet.

Mostly, it’s because he’s swimming, in the pool every day to build his stamina, to perfect his kickoff from the wall at turns, to see how long he can hold his breath.

The rest of the time is because he’s with Eddie.

He has to wear a pad when he’s around his. boyfriend.

It’s embarrassing, he’s sure everyone can see the outline of it beneath his khakis, and it feels like wearing a diaper. But it’s better than the wet spot that will seep through his crotch.

The first time he wears one on a date, Steve blushes when Eddie’s hands stray down to his bottom.

“What’s the matter, Puppy?” Eddie asks, moving his hand back up to the safety of his waist. “You’ve never been shy before.”

Steve shakes his head, blush deepening, his cheeks burning as he hides his face against Eddie’s neck. “I’m too much,” he whispers, repeating his mother’s words. “A freak.”

She’d said it when she picked Steve up from school after the first incident. Said it to his pediatrician. Said it when he can back from camp. Said it when she harshly placed the box of pads on his desk.

Said it when he had to wash his sheets for the third time that week after waking in a puddle.

Eddie smiles. Steve can feel it, the muscles lifting where his temple is pressed to Eddie’s chin. Can smell it in his scent. “Then I guess we’ll be freaks together, because there is no way you can be too much for me.” He kisses Steve’s hair, lets his hand slide back down to cup his butt and squeeze.

Moaning, Steve feels a gush of slick from his needy pussy. It’s safely caught by the thick pad, slimy wetness trapped against him, rubbing into his skin.

He hates it and he loves it.

He presses his legs together, trying to will away the sticky, chafing feeling against his sensitive bits.

“I just wish I could control myself around you. Just a little. Because all this is just for you,” Steve whispers.

“Guess we’ve gotta practice then,” Eddie says, squeezing his ass again. “Lots of practice to get you in control.”

Steve nips just to the side of Eddie’s mating gland, loves the spike of scent it causes, feels more slick flow from his pussy.

Eddie must smell it, how ripe and strong Steve’s scent is, and he chuckles, guiding Steve’s lips up to meet his. “And until then, we’ll find things to help.”

Steve nods as he pulls back from the kiss. “I’ve got one already.”

Holding Steve still by his hips, Eddie steps back and looks down between them, sees how dry his shorts are. Technically, they’re in public, at a park, but no one is close to the little warming house that only gets used in winter.

Eddie’s touch is gentle as he cups Steve’s crotch, more gliding over the fabric at first. Then he presses up, feels the squish as he pushes the pad into Steve’s mound.

The blush is back, but Eddie’s dark eyes have become impossibly darker. “It’s just for me, right, Puppy?” he whines, suddenly desperate too.

“Show me. Show me what your perfect pussy’s been up to, how it’s begging for me.”

Steve doesn’t think, just undoes his fly and pulls down his shorts and panties, a string of slick connecting his lips to the puddle in his pad. His little cock twitches at being exposed, and Eddie drops to his knees.

Part two

[ultraericthered]

Out of four consecutive Disney Villains that were defined by plot twists regarding them, I've often thought: what made Turbo and the Cybug he merged with in Wreck-It Ralph work out so well and deliver a villain so infinitely stronger than the villains that followed? I'd concluded that mostly it was because Turbo got to be around as an active and characterized antagonist as King Candy and the twisty nature of his villainy was more comparable to Judge Doom than following the Stinky Pete, Henry J. Waternoose, and Lyle T. Rourke route of only being revealed as a villain in the third act and getting to be actively antagonistic for a limited time while taking on drastically different characterization than before like the later Twist Villains (or in Bellwether's case, in only the final minutes of the third act!).

But there was something else too, and it recently struck me.

Hans, Callaghan, and Bellwether all adhere to basically the exact same formula, with only the specifics of their roles differing due to each movie being a different type of story - Frozen is a fantasy adventure-thriller, Big Hero 6 is a superhero story, and Zootopia is a buddy cop mystery. The formula is that not only is the villain introduced as a friendly character in the first act and ultimately shows their true villainous self in the third act, but during the story there's another villainous character thrown at the viewer to serve as the red herring. In Frozen, it's the Duke of Weselton. In Big Hero 6, it's Allister Krei. And in Zootopia, it's Mayor Lionheart. All of these characters seem more like the sort of villains you'd typically expect to pop up in stories of these films' natures, radiating such obvious evil energy that the viewer is naturallly meant to have their suspicions drawn to them rather than the unassuming nice person who turns out to be the real villain of the piece. I'd argue it worked best when first tried in Frozen because the Duke ended up having absolutely nothing to do with the main conflict or how it got resolved, his main contribution being to tell two men to be prepared to kill Elsa at one point and that's it: he was a red herring in the purest sense. With Krei and Lionheart afterwards, they both had increased prominence in the narrative, the former being responsible for what drove Callaghan into grief-stricken, vengeful supervillainy, and the latter at first being Bellwether's boss and actually serving as a secondary antagonist in the plot with his unethical captures and coverups in response to Bellwether's Night Howler conspiracy. And they both are such obvious suspects for being behind evildoing even in-story that it loops around to becoming obviously NOT the true culprits at all. (Not helping is how both the Duke of Weselton and Allister Krei are voiced by Alan Tudyk, at the time still most known for King Candy/Turbo!)

Whereas with Turbo, I think it was so effective because it was sort of flipped around. The story was leading us to look at King Candy as the red herring or ultimately just the diversion, continuing to remind us that the Cybug that Ralph accidentally brought with him into Sugar Rush was lurking below and breeding, which we knew could become a true threat to the game and to the whole arcade world given the way Calhoun talked the Cybugs up. Even when Felix goes into the backstory of "Going Turbo", we're not really linking that to what's currently going on with King Candy, who we at that point had not been given reason to think is anyone but who he appears to be, and King Candy's such a silly, whimsical doofus of an antagonist that we suspect he'll amount to nothing more than food for the Cybugs. How King Candy goes on to manipulate Ralph and the revelation about him as a usurper turns our perspective of him on its head as is, but then it's revealed he's not just any usurpeeeer - he's Turbo! This on its own makes him that much more villainous, but then still we get the kicker: Turbo gets eaten by the lead Cybug, just as we might've predicted would befall him....and his code overwrites the Cybug from within, making him even more dangerous and malicious than ever! So while the Cybugs do indeed become the endgame threat, they're also used as the actual diversion to get you not looking harder at King Candy and figuring out both his true identity and his true nature as the primary, most menacing villain in this story. It is ingenious.

Pulling off a Twist Villain is easy. It takes a lot more thought, skill, style and polish to pull off a Turbo-Tastic villain as Wreck-It Ralph did.

[redpill-tfs]

Red Wave Rapture

Inspired by the work of @transform4u and his #RedWaveRapture series

Logan slouched on the couch, idly scrolling through his phone. His uncle, Don, stood in the doorway, a familiar expression of exasperation and disappointment on his face.

"Look at you," Don said, shaking his head. "Eighteen years old, just graduated, and doing... nothing."

"I’m figuring things out," Logan muttered, not looking up from his screen.

"Yeah? Figuring out how to waste your life?" Don retorted, stepping into the living room. "You don’t have a job, you don’t have a plan, and frankly, you don’t have any direction. You’re living in my house, eating my food, and playing activist online. That’s not going to cut it, Logan."

Logan groaned and put his phone down. "Here we go again. You’re mad because I’m not living up to your big, conservative expectations."

Don’s face hardened. "Let’s get one thing straight: I’ve tried to be patient with you, but your whole ‘I’m gay and proud’ thing? I don’t get it. Never have, never will. And this whole aimless, rebellious phase of yours isn’t helping anything."

Logan glared at him. "My ‘phase’ isn’t going anywhere. You can be disappointed all you want, but I’m not changing who I am."

Don smirked. "You’re right; I can’t change who you are. But maybe discipline can. Let’s make a bet. You’ve got one month to find a job and stick with it. If you can’t, you’re enrolling in the police academy. Maybe some structure and pride in something bigger than yourself will do you good."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like I’d ever wear one of those uniforms. Deal. But when I win, you’re going to drop this whole cop thing and let me live my life."

"Fine," Don said, offering his hand. Logan shook it, determined to prove him wrong.

Four weeks later, Logan sat in the passenger seat of Don’s car, his arms crossed as they pulled into the police academy parking lot.

"Guess what?" Don said, his tone smug. "You didn’t get a job, so now it’s time to face the music."

"This is stupid," Logan muttered. "I don’t belong here."

"You belong somewhere, and right now, that’s here," Don said firmly. "Who knows? Maybe you’ll surprise yourself."

The academy’s orientation was every bit as rigid and overwhelming as Logan had feared. The other recruits were clean-cut, driven, and eager to prove themselves, while Logan stuck out like a sore thumb in his skinny jeans and rainbow wristband.

By mid-afternoon, the recruits were herded into a dimly lit auditorium. A commanding instructor addressed the room.

"Recruits," he began, "this is the beginning of your journey. The video you’re about to watch is a core part of your orientation. It’s called Red Wave Rapture, and it will help you understand what it means to be one of us."

Logan stifled a groan as the lights dimmed and the projector flickered to life.

The video began innocuously enough—majestic images of American landscapes, stirring orchestral music, and a deep, commanding narrator’s voice.

"Strength. Honor. Duty," the voice intoned. "These are the values that define us as officers. These are the pillars upon which our nation stands."

Logan smirked at the blatant patriotism but found himself strangely unable to look away. The imagery shifted to officers walking proudly through their communities, citizens cheering them on.

The narrator’s voice seemed to grow louder, more insistent. "You were born for this. To protect. To serve. To stand as a beacon of integrity and strength in a world that needs heroes."

Logan’s smirk faltered. A strange warmth spread through his chest, and his breathing slowed as the words seemed to penetrate his mind.

"Let go of doubt," the voice continued. "Let go of weakness. Embrace your destiny."

Logan’s gaze fixed on the screen as the images and words washed over him. The rainbow wristband on his arm caught his eye, and for the first time, it felt out of place.

"You are no longer an individual," the narrator declared. "You are part of the Red Wave, united by duty and honor."

Logan felt a strange, undeniable pull, as though the words were reshaping him from the inside out.

The images on the screen shifted to young recruits stepping into their uniforms, their expressions proud and confident. Logan could almost see himself in their place, wearing the uniform, standing tall, and exuding pride.

"Rise," the narrator commanded. "Rise and become who you were always meant to be."

Logan’s body tensed as a surge of energy coursed through him. His thoughts swirled, and his resistance crumbled under the relentless rhythm of the narrator’s voice.

When the lights came back on, Logan blinked, disoriented. He glanced down at his wristband, removed it without a second thought, and slipped it into his pocket.

By the end of the day, Logan had changed in ways that startled even him. He volunteered for every exercise, pushed himself harder than he ever thought possible, and began forming bonds with his fellow recruits.

That evening, Don met him at home with a curious look.

"How was your first day?" Don asked, sipping his coffee.

Logan’s posture was straighter, his expression more serious. "It was... eye-opening. I think I was wrong about this place. It’s exactly what I needed."

Don raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. "Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe there’s hope for you after all."

Logan hesitated, then added, "And, uh... about the other stuff. You were right about that, too. It doesn’t really fit who I’m becoming." He took his rainbow wristband and threw it in the trashcan.

Don’s face broke into a grin. "Now that’s what I like to hear."

Over the following weeks, Logan’s transformation continued. He excelled in his training, adopted a clean-cut appearance, and fully embraced the academy’s values. His once vibrant and outspoken personality gave way to a disciplined, no-nonsense demeanor.

More than that, his priorities had shifted entirely. He no longer identified with his old self, instead finding pride and purpose in his role as a recruit. His previous liberal and rebellious views seemed laughable now, relics of a misguided youth.

Graduation day arrived quickly, and Logan stood tall in his new uniform, his badge gleaming on his chest. Don stood in the audience, beaming with pride.

After the ceremony, Don pulled him aside.

"Look at you," he said, shaking his head in amazement. "You’re everything I hoped you’d become."

Logan smiled, his stance confident and assured. "Thanks, Uncle Don. I couldn’t have done it without you."

"And I wouldn’t want it any other way," Don replied, clapping him on the shoulder.

Logan posed for a photo in front of a big American flag, standing proudly in his uniform. As Don looked at the image, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

His nephew was no longer the aimless, defiant gay boy he had taken in. He was now a man of discipline, duty, and conservatism—a man Don could be proud to call family.

And for Logan, the uniform didn’t just represent his new role. It represented his transformation, a testament to the strength and pride he had discovered within himself.

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 1: Wrong Foot

Joel takes on a new contract as a bodyguard. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Non-consensual groping (not by Joel.) Mention of grief and child loss. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.1k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Next Chapter

Two years later - September 2024

“You really want me for this one?” he asked as he rode up the elevator at the nicest hotel in Austin. Even after two years protecting wealthy assholes, Joel wasn’t used to shit like this. The fast elevators and the plush carpets and the trappings of wealth that provided everything his charges needed. Everything, it seemed, except safety. 

For that, they needed him. 

Protecting people, as it happened, was something Joel was good at. It almost surprised him how good he was at it. It forced him to be aware of what was happening around him for a change instead of just moving through the world like a ghost. It took that awareness for him to even realize just how dead he’d been in the years since the death of his daughter.

Usually, things went fine. Most often, he was shepherding tech or oil executives with inflated egos from business meeting to business meeting while they were in town and looking the other way when they cheated on their wives or put half his salary up their noses. Nothing ever happened with those assholes. 

Occasionally, though, his job got interesting. Rabid fans tried to mob some pop star Joel had never heard of at a club on 6th Street once and he had to carry her out, forcing his way through the crowd before she got crushed. Then there was the supermodel who was posing for photos with fans when one little college-aged fucker thought it would be smart to grab her ass to cop a feel. Joel took a little too much pleasure in punching him so hard that he fell to the floor, knocked clean out. The football player had been the biggest trouble, though. Some hotshot asshole who’d just won the Super Bowl coming back to his college town to party. He picked a fight with the wrong drug dealer and damn near got shot for it, Joel whisking him away and getting winged in the shoulder by the bullet for his trouble. 

He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he liked when the work got dicey. Being shot at was the closest to alive Joel has felt in years. Getting to lay out some asshole without the cops trying to arrest him for it had been the highlight of his month. It made him very good at his job and he liked that, both things that surprised him. 

“You’re my best guy,” Tommy said. “You’ve seen more action on this job than almost any of the other guards and they want someone with a good history. Plus you don’t give a shit about… higher profile clientele. I can’t put fuckin’ James on a job with someone he knows, he’ll fan boy over ‘em. Remember when that one band came through?” 

“Jesus,” Joel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. It had been an easy job but it was one that he’d had to do most of the work on, James practically giddy the entire time. “Yeah, you’re right. So, what, this some pop star or somethin’?” 

“Not sure,” Tommy said. “They’ve been playin’ it real close to the chest, won’t ID ‘em until we sign an NDA.” 

“So you got no idea what we’re workin’ with,” Joel said, grinding his teeth. 

“Just that it’s someone people know,” Tommy said. “Long term contract, real good money. They mentioned a stalker, they’re bringing all the information along on that to review, wanted you to see it before we signed on.” 

Joel nodded slowly. 

“Well,” he said. “Least it’ll be interesting.” 

They made it to the top floor of the hotel, only four doors and Joel fought the urge to laugh. God, this breed of rich asshole was a whole new level. 

Tommy led the way to a door labeled Presidential Suite and knocked, a young woman with close cropped dark hair and a headphone in her ear answered the door. 

“One second,” she said, tapping her headphone before she smiled at the two men. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Miller. My boss prefers to have people come to where she is when she travels, I’m sure you can understand…” 

“Of course,” Tommy said. “Happy to go wherever you need.” 

“Can I get you anything?” She asked, leading the way into a hotel suite that had to be damn near the size of Joel’s entire house. “Coffee? Water? Tea? Also have a variety of Coke I think you call it here if you’d like that.” 

“Water’s fine,” Tommy said. 

“Still, sparkling?” She asked. “Also have cucumber, lemon, mint…” 

“Uh,” Tommy blinked for a moment and Joel fought the urge to laugh. “Still’s fine. None of that other stuff.” 

She nodded before she looked to Joel, her brows raised. 

“Coffee,” he said. “Black.” 

“Of course,” she smiled, leading them to a sitting room and gesturing to a couch. “Quinn will be with you shortly.” 

She disappeared and returned with their drinks, handing them to each of them with a smile before she tapped the headphone again. 

“Thank you,” she said, her voice almost syrupy sweet as she went to another room. “I appreciate you waiting since you’re apparently so willing to try to fuck us over…” 

Tommy’s eyes went wide and he looked at Joel, the conversation becoming almost silent as she closed the door behind her. 

“Definitely ain’t from around here,” Joel said. 

“Guess not,” Tommy said. 

It wasn’t long - Joel only drank half the coffee which was far better than he was expecting it to be - when another door opened, a woman closer to his own age coming out, dressed in an expertly fitted gray suit, her dark hair in long, tiny braids that hung to her waist. Sarah had always liked hair like that, always begged Joel to let her get them. He wished he had whiskey for his coffee. 

The woman was on the phone, too, but she was on speaker. 

“I don’t care,” she said. “You know the deal and I’m not going to just sit here and pretend that you don’t because you decided today was the day to play fucking games. Call me when you want to handle shit like a fucking grown up.” 

She hung up and sat heavily on the couch opposite them, the girl who answered the door almost scurrying into the room and hovering near the large coffee table. The woman in the suit - Quinn, Joel assumed - giving her a single nod and she rushed off, quickly returning with a bottle of water and several folios. 

“Tommy,” Quinn smiled. “While it’s good to see you again, I’m sure you’ll understand when I say I’m looking forward to getting this settled so we can stop meeting like this.” 

Tommy smiled back. 

“Can’t say I disagree,��� he said. “Wanted you to have the chance to meet Joel, he’ll be the lead on this contract assuming we go ahead. He’s one of my best guys, got the history you asked for…” 

“I’m sure being your brother doesn’t hurt,” she smiled a little. Joel raised his eyebrows and looked to Tommy but she answered his unspoken question. “We pulled backgrounds for everyone on your payroll. We can’t be too careful.” 

She tossed one of the leather folios on the table. 

“This is what we’re up against,” she said. “Redacted, of course, so you can’t ascertain who my client is but you’ll have access to the full versions should you accept the contract and sign the necessary NDAs. We’ve naturally brought them to the police and they believe the threat is credible. They have a lot of information - some of these were sent to my client’s private residence, for example - and it’s clear they’ve seen my client in person numerous times. We have reason to believe they will follow my client wherever she goes and there is genuine concern for escalation…” 

Tommy picked up the file and looked it over, nodding slowly, before passing a page off to Joel. It was the photo copy of a printed letter. 

You were beautiful today in that green dress. 

One day, you’ll come home to me. One day, I’ll make you see. 

Joel passed the page back to Tommy. 

“I can see why you’re concerned,” Tommy said, handing the folio back. “Don’t seem like anything we can’t handle. I think we’re alright to move forward with the contract as discussed…” 

There was a knock at the door and the girl ran to go answer it, Quinn ignoring it completely. 

“Excellent,” she said, grabbing another folio and passing it over. “This is the contract and the NDA, already reviewed by your legal team. We just require a wet signature.” 

Tommy nodded, looking over the pages, anyway, and Joel was starting to wonder why he’d had to be trotted out like some kind of prize show pony just to sign some damn paperwork when there was a commotion at the door. 

“This really isn’t necessary,” the girl was saying, her voice oddly pleading, the total opposite of how she’d been on the phone. 

“Oh I’m sure Quinn won’t mind,” another voice - a new one but there was a tug of familiarity to it that set Joel’s teeth on edge - said. “I am her favorite client, after all.” 

Quinn’s head snapped in the direction of the sound and, in a sweep of gauzy clothes and floral perfume, you were there. 

Joel recognized you immediately, everything about you seeming to have been built to be remembered. The whole world remembered you, it had been years since he’d been able to escape you. The biggest movie star on the planet, helming major franchises and winning fucking Oscars, on the cover of gossip rags at the fucking grocery store and on billboards advertising perfume and on Saturday Night Live. In person, from the second you appeared, you were a force. Your face, your voice, the way you held yourself, no wonder he always noticed you when you were all around him. No wonder his daughter had been obsessed with you. 

Your face was a poster on her wall, a picture where you had the slightest, confident smile on your lips but your eyes always seemed sad. You turned those eyes to him, ranging over him like you were taking stock and Joel’s heart stuttered before your gaze turned to Tommy and back to Quinn. 

“So glad you got the meeting started without me,” you said, all saccharine sweetness, stepping over Joel’s legs and sitting down on the edge of the couch between him and Tommy. You crossed one elegant leg over the other - your pants ever so slightly sheer so Joel could just make out your thigh below the loose fabric - and leaned forward, taking Joel’s white china coffee cup off the table and helping yourself to a sip with a jingle of your bangles that were piled high on your wrists. You gave him a wink as you did, setting the cup back on its saucer before leaning onto your leg, your arms folded in front of you. “I’m sure the fact that I didn’t know it was happening has nothing to do with wanting to cut me out of the decision making for something that’s going to be apparently integral to my life over the next year.” 

“I just don’t want to bog you down with petty things like this,” Quinn waved you off. “You have enough on your plate, that’s what you pay me for…” 

“Oh I’m sure that’s all it is…” 

Quinn leaned forward, too, meeting your steely gaze from across the table. The knowing smile that had been on her lips just a second earlier was gone. In its place was a no nonsense expression that Joel imagined carried her far when dealing with Hollywood assholes. She, it seemed, was done coddling you. 

“The studios know,” she cut you off. “Someone at the police station leaked it. And they won’t insure you without higher levels of security, especially if you want to spend this much time outside LA. You want to keep working? You need security. At least until we get to the bottom of whoever is sending you letters.” 

“Have you tried telling them how well the tickets will sell when I die?” You asked, brows raised. “I’m sure they’ll be champing at the bit then, especially now that they can just replace me with CGI for whatever isn’t in the can…” 

“That’s not funny,” Quinn said sharply. 

“Oh, come on. It was a little funny.” 

She glared at you. 

“Do you really want someone like that getting close to her?” She asked, her voice almost unsettlingly earnest and gentle. You almost deflated then, giving in. “It’s not safe, babe. I’m trying to keep you safe. It just so happens that it’s also in the studio’s best interest so you don’t have to foot the entire bill.” 

“You must not have told them about the boost in ticket sales, then,” you said wryly. She rolled her eyes. “But fine. If you really think there’s a risk to her? I’ll do it.” 

Joel wondered who this “her” was. Knowing movie stars, probably some tiny fucking dog you carried in your goddamn purse. 

You looked to Joel for a moment, your gaze oddly cutting, like you were seeing through every part of him before turning your attention to Tommy. 

“When does your contract begin then?” 

Tommy glanced at Joel, almost asking if he was actually OK with this. Clearly, this wasn’t what Tommy had expected either. Joel gave a minute shrug. 

“Tomorrow,” Tommy said, looking back to you. “Joel here will be your point man but you’ll also be working with a few other guys from my company. He’ll get you oriented tomorrow and we can work out a way to ensure your protection that’s minimally disruptive to your daily life.” 

You scoffed. 

“Something tells me having a wall of muscle follow me everywhere is going to disruptive,” you said. “But the studio says jump, we say how high, right?” 

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” Quinn said.

“We all know who does,” you muttered darkly, getting to your feet. “Well, since all this was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not, I think I’m done wasting my time here.” 

You turned to Joel and he found himself in the unnatural position of looking up to someone, his jaw tight as you levied those exacting eyes on him again. 

“See you in the morning,” you said, reaching down and helping yourself to another sip of his coffee with a wink before stepping over his legs and heading out the door in a whirl of soft perfume and flowing fabric. He looked back to the coffee cup. Your lipstick was on the rim.

Joel tried not to think about how you looked at him as Tommy finished up with the formalities, the conversation between his brother and Quinn a drone he couldn’t really make out over the noise in his head as his leg bounced impatiently.

When Tommy had looked at him just now, the silent request for permission, he should have bowed out. He should have said he didn’t want to put his life on the line for some spoiled fucking brat and gone home. But he hadn’t and he couldn’t back out of this now. It didn’t matter how much you made him think of his daughter. It didn’t matter how your eyes seemed to cut him to the quick. He owed Tommy. When he’d started in this business, he’d told his brother that he could do this work and sometimes that meant doing shit he wasn’t comfortable with. He would just have to live with that. 

Eventually, Joel gave up on sitting still. 

“Be downstairs,” he said gruffly to Tommy when the conversation with Quinn lulled for a moment. He didn’t wait for a response before going for the elevator, relieved that it as empty on the way down to the lobby as it had been on the way up. 

But the ground floor of the hotel was not the quiet place it had been when Joel had arrived. Instead, there was a press of people just outside the doors, phones up and loud enough that he could hear them through the glass. He frowned for a moment before he realized what it was, the metal of your bangles catching the light as your arm rose above the crowd, a phone clutched in your hand as you took a selfie. 

“Jesus,” Joel muttered, stalking over toward the door. 

At least, he thought, he wasn’t on duty until tomorrow. If you really wanted to handle shit that bad on your own? Fine by him. 

The doorman held the door for him and Joel gave him a stiff nod as he tried to force his way from the building, but the press of people was becoming suffocating, every inch of sidewalk crammed tight. 

“Can I get a selfie?” 

“My girlfriend loves you, can you say hi to her on video?” 

“Can I have an autograph?” 

“Look, I’m happy to give you all whatever you want,” you said, voice friendly but still curt. “But I need a little room to breathe, OK? I’m not in a rush, we’ve got time, it’s…” 

Someone from the outside edge of the crowd shoved forward, sending the press of people toward you, Joel tall enough that he could see how they tripped and jostled, sending you stumbling into the person at your back. You had to fight for the space to stand up again, the man you’d fallen into’s hand running up your side to your chest, cupping the underside of your breast as you tried to find a way to separate from him. If it wasn’t for the look on his face, Joel might have given him the benefit of the doubt. But his lecherous smile gave him away, and the thinly veiled look of disgust on your face told him you knew exactly what this man was trying. 

Something that hadn’t existed much since Joel lost everything took over. It was rage, blind and violent and coursing through him sharp and heady. That rage didn’t give him a chance to really think, but then, it never had. Not when he was a kid and his dad was on some bender, not when he was some hotheaded teenager looking to pick a fight with a bully at school, not when he was at a bar and saw someone who could have killed his daughter. It was no different now as he practically dove into the crowd, forcing the group apart and not caring if people got pushed into the street or shoved to the ground.

“Move!” Joel yelled, not that it seemed to do much beyond warn people that he was coming for them. He reached you in a matter of seconds, towering over the man who’d decided to take advantage of your vulnerable position to grope you. The man - more of a kid, likely some student at UT who didn’t know his ass from hole in the ground - gaped up at him, his eyes wide and his hand still on your breast. 

Joel took your arm and pulled you, roughly, away from his grip, tucking you behind him before refocusing on the kid in front of him. 

“You think that shit’s funny?” Joel asked, his hand curling into a fist. “Touchin’ a woman without permission?” 

“I was just…” he looked afraid and something inside Joel flared with pride at that. Look at what he could do, he thought, it looked like he was capable of something after all. 

“Know what you were just,” Joel cut him off, mockingly, before grabbing him by his shirt and slamming him back into a marble pillar. The kids head smacked against it with sickening crack. “Do that shit again and I’ll bust your jaw.” 

Joel released him and the kid slumped to the ground before he turned to find you, looking down at the kid with your mouth slightly open. 

“C’mon,” Joel said, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him, ducking your head down low to ruin the picture for anyone who might be trying to take one. “Let’s go.” 

He looked around, the crowd thinner now but all watching him. 

“Move!” He roared again. This time, they listened, parting like the Red Sea as he ushered you quickly away, back into the hotel. He looked to the door man, trying not to glare at him too hard. “Those assholes don’t come inside, we clear?” 

“Yes sir,” the man said quickly.

Joel looked to you next. 

“Where’s your car?” 

“Valet,” you said, your forehead in your hand. “I didn’t get a chance to even grab it yet, someone must have tipped off some fucking gossip blog that I was here…” 

“Got the ticket?” Joel asked. You sighed and fished it out of your pocket and handed it over before Joel took it to the front desk and told them to have your car brought out back. He also got directions to the loading dock before going back to find you, in the same spot on the plush lobby couch, fingers laced together, elbows braced on your knees. 

“C’mon,” Joel said, making you jump before looking up at him. “They’re bringing your car around back, we’ll get you out of here without those fuckers knowin’.” 

You looked back down at the ground before giving a stiff nod. 

“Thanks.” You got up and took a deep breath, raising your chin, an almost serene look on your face before looking to him. “Lead the way.” 

He did as you asked, watching like a hawk for anyone who might be stupid enough to try to talk to you. But no one seemed to pay you any mind, even as the two of you cut through the dining room - closed between lunch and dinner service - and into the kitchen, where dozens of cooks were working to get set for the evening. They just ducked around the pair of you, sometimes giving Joel a dirty look for getting in their way, and then you were at the loading dock. 

“Here,” Joel said, jumping down from the edge of it to the alley still damp from rain from the night before. He held his hands out to you. “I’ll help you down.” 

“Thanks, but I’d rather do it myself,” you said. You were more cautious about it than Joel but you jumped down and landed lightly beside him, brushing your hands free of the dirt from the dock before crossing your arms tightly over your chest. Your jaw was tight, the only sign on your calm, uncommonly beautiful face that something might be wrong. Joel crossed his arms, too. 

“You OK?” He asked after a moment. 

You looked at him for a second, your brows raised ever so slightly. 

“Fine,” you said after a moment before staring straight ahead again. 

“You sure?” He asked. He wasn’t sure why he was pressing. He shouldn’t care. He didn’t care.

“Yes,” you said and then you laughed once, sharply. “I mean, no, I’m not but what the fuck am I going to do about it? It’s part of the job, isn’t it?” 

Joel ground his teeth. 

“Shouldn’t be.” 

“Regardless,” you shrugged, glancing at him again. “Thank you for your help. You didn’t have to do that and… Well, I appreciate it.” 

“Sure,” he said as your car came around the corner. You dropped your arms before turning to face him. 

“Looks like it’s you and me starting tomorrow,” you said. “I’m sure your boss will give you all the details but I don’t think I caught your name.” 

“Joel,” he said after a moment. “Miller.”

You smiled, a small, almost hesitant one, the slightest upturn of your lips. 

“Joel Miller,” you repeated back to him. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m…” 

“Don’t need to tell me your name,” he said. “Pretty sure everyone on Earth knows your name.” 

You laughed again in that same, humorless way as your car stopped beside you. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I suppose they do. See you tomorrow, Joel.” 

“See you tomorrow, ma’am.” 

He watched you pull cash out of your pocket and smile more broadly at valet who was damn near gawking at you. You discreetly handed him the money as you shook his hand and Joel stayed there in the alley until he couldn’t see your car any more. 

“Holy shit,” the valet said and Joel looked down at him. He had to be about 18 years old, still wet behind the ears. Probably had fucking posters of you up in his room that he jerked off to before he went to bed. He held up the cash. “She gave me 100 bucks!” 

Joel looked down at him, making sure to draw himself to his full height. 

“You gonna tell anyone we got her out this way?” He asked. The kid swallowed hard and shook his head. “Good.” 

Joel tried not to grind his teeth as he went back inside to find his brother. He wished it wasn’t too late to back out of this. You, he thought, were going to be far more than he’d bargained for. He just hoped he was ready for it.

***

“I’m not wearing this.” 

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Seriously dude?” You asked, incredulous. “Can’t you wait like… two days before picking a fight?” 

“Have you seen this fucking thing?” Ellie’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs as she held up the hem of the blue plaid skirt that, you had to admit, looked sickeningly unnatural on your 14-year-old niece. “You could put a whole circus up this thing! And how am I supposed to kick someone’s ass in a fucking skirt?” 

“First of all, language,” you said. She rolled her eyes. You ignored her. “Second of all, you shouldn’t be kicking anybody’s ass. Why are you starting your day thinking about ass kicking? You haven’t even met these kids yet, I highly doubt you’ll need to kick someone’s ass your first day.” 

“I’d like to be able to kick someone’s ass if I need to,” she said, incredulous. “Come on. You know this is insane.” 

You sighed as the doorbell rang and you checked your watch. 7 a.m. on the nose. Well, at least the man was prompt. 

“Fine,” you sighed. “Run upstairs, put on something else…” 

Ellie took off as Esmo, your household assistant, appeared next to you, Joel by her side. 

“Morning,” he said, voice gruff. You looked him over quickly, a side arm at his belt on a pair of jeans that fit him entirely too well. You doubted they were tailored, either, they just fit him like that, the bastard. Just your luck that you’d get stuck with a bodyguard who was unnaturally good looking but also an asshole. “Thought we could get started with…”

“Sorry, that won’t work, things are a bit off the rails this morning,” you said to him quickly, not giving him a chance to respond before turning to Esmo.

“Do you still have the name of the uniform store?” You asked her. “If you do, can you see if they’re open? I think we’re going to need to stop for pants…” 

“Yes ma’am,” she said, quickly pulling out her phone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think to get pants, the requirements were very clear…” 

“It’s not your fault,” you said quickly. Esmo had only been working for you for a few weeks and it felt like the two of you were still getting used to each other. She insisted on calling you ma’am. You insisted on doing too much for yourself. It was a delicate balance. “She’s just…” 

“OK,” Ellie came thundering down the stairs in the same sweater with a button down shirt and tie but jeans instead of the skirt. “Ready!” 

“Store opened at seven,” Esmo said, pocketing her phone. “I can take her and…” 

“I want to do it,” you cut her off, catching a glimpse of Joel’s shocked expression out of the corner of your eye as you looked back to your niece. “Alright trouble maker, ready to go?” 

“Fuck yeah.” 

“Girl,” you said. “Language, please!” 

She made a face but made her way to the front door, anyway, her thumbs looped through the straps of her book bag and you turned to Joel, still surprised at just how large he was, even after being against him the day before. 

“Assuming you’re along for the ride on this,” you said, jerking your head for the door. “But we gotta book it, with an extra stop we’re already not going to be early for her first day.” 

He still had a look of almost shock on his face but he followed behind you as you grabbed your keys and wristlet from the bowl by the door, Ellie bouncing impatiently from foot to foot. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were excited,” you teased as you made you way to the Porsche SUV you’d gotten specifically to haul Ellie around. “Almost like you want to go to school instead of hanging out with me all day.” 

“Spending time with old people does get… well, old,” she smirked, heading for the passenger seat but you stopped her. 

“Absolutely not, you’re in back,” you said, jerking a thumb toward Joel - who still hadn’t spoken. “This man has a good foot on you, we’re not making him sit back there.” 

“Ugh, fine,” she huffed but obeyed, throwing her book bag against the opposite door before clambering in as Joel went for the driver’s seat, holding out his hand for the keys. You gave him a look but he just raised his brow, his arm still extended expectantly. 

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll let you follow me around like some guard dog but I’m keeping some last vestige of my autonomy. I’m driving.” 

He narrowed his eyes. 

“No.” 

“And why not?” You asked. “Because you have control issues?”

“Do you know evasive driving tactics?” He asked. “How to watch for pursuers and safely out run them?” 

“No, but I did my own stunt driving for the Fast Track franchise,” you said wryly. “Think I’ll be fine. Now move, you’re making us late.” 

He ground his teeth. 

“We’re talkin’ about this,” he muttered before stalking off to the passenger side of the car. 

“Yeah I bet we are,” you said under your breath as you got in the car and programmed the GPS for the uniform store. 

“So,” Ellie said in a teasing tone as she leaned between the front seats as you started off. “Who are you?”

“Put on your seatbelt,” he said. 

She rolled her eyes but sat back and obeyed.

“This is Joel,” you answered for him. “He’s going to be around quite a bit.” 

“Is he like another assistant or some shit?” She asked. 

“Language,” you said and you caught a glimpse of her rolling her eyes in your rearview mirror. “And no, not an assistant.” 

“Ohhhh,” she smirked. “So he’s like a boyfriend then, got it…” 

Joel rolled his eyes. 

“I’m a bodyguard,” he said. “I’ll be protecting your…” 

“Bodyguard?” Ellie interrupted and leaned forward again, frowning. “Why do you need a bodyguard? You didn’t have one of those in LA, what the fuck?” 

“I have a bodyguard because you can’t go five minutes without saying fuck,” you said wryly. “My life is under constant threat because of…” 

“Please,” Ellie rolled her eyes. “You have a worse mouth than I do. But seriously, why do you need a bodyguard? Is something going on?” 

You saw Joel moving to talk but you spoke before he had a chance to. 

“This is just a different place than LA,” you said quickly. “People here aren’t used to people like me just showing up in grocery stores and stuff. It can get out of hand quick so the studio wanted me to have Joel around. It’s just a precaution.” 

She seemed skeptical but was satisfied enough by the bullshit explanation you’d just given her that she sat back, pulling a Savage Starlight comic book from her book bag and you smiled a little. A lot might have changed in the last few months but at least Ellie was still Ellie. 

You made it to the uniform store and told the woman inside - who was seemingly trying not to gape at you but was failing miserably - what you were looking for. She grabbed a few pairs of uniform pants in different sizes before leading Ellie to the fitting rooms and you hung back, waiting for her to change with Joel by your side. He stood facing you, eyes constantly sweeping the store as though this strip mall just outside Austin were a war zone. 

“No one told me you had a kid,” he said eventually. 

You smiled, sadly. 

“Yeah, well,” you said. “I have a kid. That’s a pretty new development, though.” 

That made him pause, his eyebrows drawing together as he looked to you. 

“I adopted her,” you said. “A few months ago. Her mom was a single parent and like a sister to me. When she got cancer, the first thing she asked me was to take Ellie if… I told her that she was nuts, that she’d be around forever and she wouldn’t need me to do anything for Ellie besides take her to Europe for a cool aunt vacation when she turned 18 but… well, now I have a kid.” 

“I…” His voice trailed off. “Shit. I’m sorry.”  

You shrugged. 

“It is what it is, I guess,” you said. “She’s why I’m here. Things in LA… I’ve always been in her life. I was the second person to ever hold her. But I’ve always kept the paparazzi far away from her, I’ve made sure she has privacy and that she was as sheltered from that part of my life as she could be. I want to settle into this with some version of normal, one that isn’t possible when I’m in LA. And you, Joel, are throwing quite a wrench into that.” 

“Oh this is so much better,” Ellie threw the door to the changing room open with a flourish, in a pair of blue pants that perfectly matched the blue of the sweater. “Not as good as jeans but better than that stupid freaking skirt.” 

“Alright,” you said. “We’ll take five of those and then we have to get you to school because there’s no point in loading you up on uniforms just to have you miss your first day, let’s go.” 

You weren’t as early as you wanted to be - you’d been hoping to have a chance to meet Ellie’s teachers before the day started but that plan was shot - but at least kids were still arriving. You grabbed a baseball cap from your glove box, Joel stiffening as you reached between his legs to open it and you resisted the urge to smirk at that. As though you’d be trying to come onto him at all let alone with your niece in the car. 

Hat on so you were somewhat disguised, you walked with Ellie and Joel to the front of the stone building, one that had clearly taken inspiration from the ivy league schools the kids who went here were all but destined to attend. A gray haired woman in a charcoal pantsuit rushed out to greet you, an almost stern look on her face. 

“Welcome to Austin Preparatory Academy,” she extended her hand. “I’m Amanda Stark, headmistress here.” 

“Good to meet you,” you said, taking her hand, feeling Joel standing oddly close to your back. “This is Ellie, she’s looking forward to starting here today and…” 

“We’re looking forward to having her,” she smiled a little at Ellie before redirecting her attention to you. “But I’m afraid there’s been some… ah… miscommunication about the uniform. Girls are required to wear skirts. I’m sure we have…” 

“No miscommunication,” you smiled a little, steeling your spine. From the moment you’d caved to Ellie, you knew this was coming. But you’d been prepared to fight far bigger battles over this kid, this wasn’t going to be any different. “Ellie just prefers to wear pants. It wasn’t a problem at her last school, I’m sure it won’t be a problem here.” 

Ellie stuck her chin out, smirking a little and defiant as ever and you resisted the urge to elbow her. She could at least act like she wasn’t going to get her way. 

“But it is,” the headmistress said. “The uniform code here has been this way for decades and…” 

“And I’m sure you’re not suggesting that just because something has been done one way that it should continue to be done that way at the expense of students’ comfort and learning experience,” you finished for her, smiling tightly.

“We have expectations for our students,” she said, her jaw clenched. “Just like they will have one day to be successful in life, and…” 

“And you’re wearing pants,” you nodded to her suit. “And so am I. Of course, if you’re suggesting that neither of us is successful then…” 

“No, no of course not, that’s not…” 

“Wonderful!” You said brightly. “I’m glad that’s settled. I’m sure Ellie won’t cause any disruption wearing the uniform pants and now I won’t need to spend my day contacting every major news network here in Austin and asking them to come here and chat with me about your archaic gender rules and expectations. Sound good?” 

You watched her grind her teeth for a moment. 

“Of course,” she said after a moment of silence hanging in the air. “But we are close to the start of the school day and…” 

“Yes, I don’t want to be a distraction,” you smiled before turning to Ellie, tucking a hair that had already broken free of her ponytail behind her ear. “Alright kid, behave yourself, OK?” 

“Yes Sissy,” she rolled her eyes. Your heart still tightened a little when she called you that. She sounded so much like her mother, Anna. You loved that Ellie called you the same thing her mother had but still, it stung.

“I’ll be back to pick you up,” you said, putting your hands on her shoulders. “Have a good first day, OK?” 

“Oh I will,” she said and you watched her head into the building with the headmistress at her side until you couldn’t see her anymore. 

“OK, she’s dropped,” Joel said, his voice tight. “Let’s move, this place isn’t secured.” 

“Well that sure seems like a gap in security, doesn’t it?” You said, brows raised. 

“One I would have fixed if anyone had bothered to tell me you had a damn kid,” he practically growled. 

“Probably a bad idea for your boss to not have insisted on bringing me into the conversation then, wasn’t it?” 

He looked at you, his face hard. 

“Keys.” He held out his hand.

You laughed once. 

“Keys?” You said. “Really? Just ‘keys,’” you grunted it like he did, “that’s it?”

“Your kid is inside,” he said, hand still out. “Don’t have her to use an excuse now so, keys.” 

You looked at him for a moment, the firm set of his jaw, the flecks of gray just starting in at his temples. He was a good looking man, tall and broad with a rugged look to him. He’d make a good cowboy in a western, you thought, or maybe a hardened detective. But protecting someone like you seemed out of place for him. Beneath him a little, almost like he was a sell out.

“No,” you said simply, ducking around him and heading for the car. 

He followed closely behind you, even his footfalls gruff and angry. You sped up a little but he stepped in front of you, anyway, his oddly large body blocking your door. He opened his mouth - probably to try to order you around again - but you cut him off before he had the chance. 

“I’m not letting you drive,” you said. “It doesn’t matter what you do or what you say. If you want to drive, you’re going to have to pick me up and move me so, if you want to get out of here quickly and without causing a scene, you’ll get in the passenger seat and we can go.” 

For half a moment, you thought he might actually throw you over his shoulder. Instead, he just grunted and stalked around to the other side of the car, ripping the door open roughly. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. All this pretense over some stupid letters from some over zealous fan. 

You got in the car and dropped the keys in Joel’s lap. He frowned, picking them up. 

“You want to have the keys so bad? Fine.” You pushed the button and the car roared to life. “I’ve got them right where I want them.” 

“You gotta come to terms with how this shit is going to work,” he said sharply. “You can’t just do whatever the hell it is you feel like. I get that you’re some spoiled fuckin’ actress who only ever does exactly what she wants whenever she wants but I got news for you, I don’t give a shit how many movies you’ve been in or awards you’ve won. I care about keeping your ass alive and to do that, you gotta listen to me. I ain’t one of those fuckin’ ass kissers you spend all your time with so we can do this the hard way or the easy way but either way, it’s gonna be my fuckin’ way. Understood?” 

You watched him for a moment, your tongue between your teeth to keep from snapping at him. It was something you were used to, something you’d been doing since you were a girl, always shutting up while the people who were more powerful than you - people you’d made fucking rich - made every decision for you. 

That was one thing on set and in your career and even for posed fucking paparazzi shots but not in your real life. 

“I need coffee,” you said, putting the car in drive. “Coffee?” 

“I’m sure you got people who can do that for you,” he said, his jaw clenched. 

“Yes, but where’s the fun in that?” You smirked before nodding down to his wrist. “Oh, also? Your watch is broken.” 

You pressed the gas harder than you should have, the car jumping sharply forward, wondering just how far you could push your new shadow before he backed out.

Next Chapter

A/N: OK I'm already in love with writing how these two push each other's buttons. Annoying Joel Miller is my passion, I can't wait to drive this man absolutely insane over the arc of this fic.

Thank you so much for being patient as I wrapped up Yearling and went on vacation! I'm hoping to update this once a week going forward so you won't need to wait quite so long between chapters from here on out. I hope you enjoyed getting to know these two a little better!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler

[ebullientheart]

the nice guy. spencer reid x reader

content — fluff. humour. fem!bau!reader. casual mention of sex. loosely based on season four episode nine. case talk. nondescript injury to reader.

you explain to spence the difference between a nice guy and a ‘nice guy’.

“i don’t understand this.”

morgan spun on his chair, “what’s that, wonder boy?”

the files he was flicking through were baffling him. each of the interview transcripts read the same sort of thing. ‘oh, he was a textbook ‘nice guy’ you know’, or something to that effect.

you were the one conducting that set of witness interviews, and the text before him showed no confusion on your part as you continued your original line of questioning. concluding this meant you understood, spencer ignored derek’s response and instead got up to find you. predictably, in garcia’s office, watching unreleased films, seeing as your paperwork was long completed.

“can i ask you something?” he interjected, causing penelope to throw popcorn at him as a consequence of her surprise.

“can you knock?” she quipped back, but he wasn’t really listening to her. spencer could become pretty single minded when he set his focus on something, especially if it was something he didn’t understand.

you excused yourself and followed him into the hall. the simple window on your right showed nothing but the clouded night sky, meaning only a few people lingered in the office now. spencer turned the light on by reaching past your head to the switch, while you tried to ignore the way your stomach felt upon having him lean over you.

clearing your throat, you addressed him, “what did ya need, spence?”

he showed you what he’d been preoccupied with, “what does this mean? we profiled our unsub as desperate, creepy, and we were right. why did they all describe him as a nice guy?”

you pondered for a moment on how best to explain it to him before you answered.

“they’re kind of being sarcastic. a textbook ‘nice guy’ is a guy who really pities himself, quotes ‘nice guys finish last’, that sort of thing. he thinks he’s so kind, and for that women owe him sex, so when they don’t meet that standard, he just believes women only like jerks. he sees himself as good, but he doesn’t comprehend why women would take offence to his sexual reward system for human decency.”

spencer frowned, “there are enough of them that women have a collective name for this?”

you nodded, “trademarked and everything.”

“really?”

“no, kidding.”

he smiled at you and you returned it, his curiosity fulfilled and his faith in humanity slightly lessened, as it was case by case.

a few days later, you were all jetting off to another police department, examining files and bouncing theories. spencer sat on your left, the only one close enough to hear the low rumble of your stomach. chuckling to himself, he produced a breakfast bar from his satchel and slid it over to you. the overjoyed expression on your face at food, and food in your favourite flavour, prompted him to remember your ‘nice guy’ conversation.

you offered him your thanks and he answered, “you’re welcome. no sex required.”

even though he was half kidding, half sincere, you gave him a whole laugh, easy and unabashed. the smile he donned was satisfied at initiating such glee from you.

as the investigation progressed, the danger became more and more apparent. the team knew someone was going to end up hurt, but it didn’t stop them from flinching as they saw you swinging your legs in the back of an ambulance, taking emergency blood supply. you rolled your eyes at their concern, “really, i’m fine guys. just a scratch.”

they weren’t so quick to dismiss your injury, but they didn’t hover. they had protocol to follow, local cops to brief, and press to alert. the only one who lingered was spencer, awkwardly sitting next to you at your invitation. he thought about wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder as a chill set in the air, but was too afraid to dislodge the tube. you bit the bullet of his worrying and leaned until he was prompted to support you.

“are you alright?” he knew it wasn’t the right thing to ask you, but he wasn’t sure what else to say in that moment, not when you were pressed against him so the warmth from your body bled through his vest to his own skin.

you gave a light shrug, but didn’t comment further, instead saying, “you’re nice, spencer. the real way.”

he hummed, “how’d you know?”

“nice guy trademark would’ve tried to kiss me by now. you’re just holding me.”

he knew what he was about to admit was a risk, but the question burned in his throat, “what if i wanted to? kiss you?”

you looked up at him and his heart skipped a beat. if he tried, he could count every one of your eyelashes, even though a few were clumped together by smudges of mascara that had congealed in your initial reaction to the wound. there was a brightness in your irises that sparked something in his chest. the hand you could move freely came up to his face, which had become flushed. you could feel the heat beneath your palm, but couldn’t make it out visually with his back to the ambulance light.

“i’d think you’re even nicer.”

he didn’t seem all that surprised, “can i?”

“please.”

[teamhappyme]

all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

aka the four times you save mike dodds + the one time he saves you

mike dodds x female!reader

word count: 9.3k

a/n: me? keeping mike dodds alive and well in every universe? absolutely. a good old fashioned 4+1 for you folks! this was another labor of love that has been years in the making because I could never string enough good things together - until I did! it's not my best, but it's one of my favorites, and i love writing for this guy! it's a niche character, but one near and dear to my heart. (I refuse to give up my Taylor swift lyric titles so fight me)

****

The first time you saved Mike Dodds, it was from the awful coffee in the squad room. 

It was his first week with SVU, and, let’s just say, everyone is adjusting. He stepped over you while getting the victim’s disclosure, he pursued a lead not pertaining to the disclosure without telling Liv, and to top it all off, Rollins’ sister was behind the whole situation. 

So, it’s been a tense week for everyone. 

After Kim was remanded to Rikers, and Amanda was released from the hospital, everyone could let out a sigh of relief.

You were wrapping up some paperwork in the squad room after getting back from the courthouse, Liv talking with the chief in her office. You could only assume the accolades he was giving his son, while Liv just had to sit there and bite her tongue. You don’t envy the position she’s in right now.

To keep your eyes open a little longer, you made your way to the breakroom to grab a soda. Much to your surprise, you found the sarge at the coffee machine, ready to pour a heaping cup of old coffee.

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” You warned him as you fed a dollar to the vending machine, pressing for a coke to come out. “I guarantee it’s been sitting there since this morning, maybe even last night.”

He nodded, placing the styrofoam cup back on the table. “Thanks for warning me. I’m pretty sure everyone else would’ve let me suffer the consequences.”

“Rollins and Fin would’ve watched the whole thing, but Carisi would’ve ran in to save you. We’re not too fond of perpetuating the newbie pranks, especially on a sergeant.”

You offered him the coke once it came out of the machine, and he took it, giving you a nod of gratitude. He didn’t open it right away, taking a few seconds to fiddle with the tab. 

He looked up at you, looking quite defeated for the confident man that walked in here three days ago. “I’m not trying to step on any toes here, detective.”

“Dodds,” You started, but he cut you off. 

Again.

“I’m the new guy, the new second in command here, and I understand that it’s going to take some time for you guys to warm up to me,”

“Dodds.” You held your arm out in front of you, hoping he would stop talking. “First things first, stop interrupting me.”

He had a sheepish grin, and hung his head. 

“SVU isn’t like the rest of the department. It’s not as simple as getting the statement, arresting the perp, and going to trial. We have to connect with the victim, make sure they feel safe and supported enough to tell their story. And most importantly, we listen to Liv. She gives a masterclass everyday in being an SVU cop.” You paused for a second, taking another look at him. Of course he looked defeated, the welcome into special victims is never an easy one. “Listen, we’ve all been in your shoes. There’s a learning curve, and it takes a minute to get there, but you will. You’ve got good instincts, you’ve got the rank to prove it. You’ve just got to think in another way now.”

You saw the chief exit Liv’s office, and heard the dejected sigh leave Dodds’ mouth.

“I’m not worried about the learning curve. I know I have a lot to learn. What I’m worried about is not being taken seriously.” You looked over at him, and saw that he was locked on his father’s figure, following him out of the precinct. “I know everyone’s worried that I’m the boss’s son, thinking they have to watch themselves around me. But I’m not his puppet, and I’m not here to report back to him. What happens at SVU, stays at SVU.”

“I appreciate that.” He gave you a pointed look, not sure whether or not to believe you, but you only smiled. “Listen, we’re all straight shooters here. I’m not worried about who your father is or how you got this position. Everyone deserves a fair chance, and after these last few days with you, I think you’ll be just fine here.”

Honestly, you were never worried about his placement here. Sure, the rest of the squad was a little suspicious, and maybe gave him a hard time, but he’ll learn his place. And hopefully, they’ll see this guy, honest and vulnerable, instead of the shadow of his father the next time they look at him.

“Thank you. I know you could’ve chewed my head off after that disclosure, so I appreciate your patience.”

You laughed while moving back to the vending machine, getting a coke for yourself this time.

“It was your one free pass.”

“Technically two, since you saved me from the burnt coffee.” He added, walking back to the bullpen. 

“Yeah, next time I’ll let you drink it.”

****

The second time you saved Mike Dodds was after the Lily Evans case. 

It was never easy losing a kid, no matter how many years you have on the job. After three months with the unit, he felt like he hit his stride.

All until today.

It was late when Dodds and Liv came back from the Evans house, looking particularly jaded after informing the grieving parents they closed the case. 

It was business as usual for the next thirty minutes, paperwork was finished, a celebratory job well done for solving something in a timely manner. And just like that, we move onto the next one.

Once Liv emerged from her office, the rest of the squad started to pack up. 

“You going to see Amanda?” Fin asked.

“Yeah, I thought I’d stop by.”

“You know what, she’s been living off takeout. How about we all go up there, and I’ll cook us a real meal.” Carisi interrupted the Lieutenant, Fin in agreement to eat some real Italian food.

The smile on your face was automatic, loving the small moments in your day where there was a little room for happiness. 

“Hey Sergeant, you wanna join us?” You all looked to Dodds, slouched in his chair, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. 

You’ve all been there before.

“Uh, rain check. Paperwork.” He sat up straighter in his chair, pulling a random file from his desk.

You exchanged a look with Carisi before setting your things back on your desk. 

“I’ll meet you guys up there. And don’t let Fin eat all the garlic bread,” you teased, trying to keep the happy moment alive.  

Once the rest of the squad left, you walked back over to Dodds desk. He continued to comb through the files on his desk, pretending to look busy.

“I know being a Sergeant is a big deal, but there’s no way you’ve accumulated this much paperwork since you’ve been here.”

“Well with all the joy rides you and Carisi go on, you’d be surprised how quickly those car change requests pile up.”

He said with a smile, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“As appealing as that pile of paperwork may be, it’s got nothing on a home cooked Carisi meal. So,” you paused, giving him the opportunity to speak first if he wanted. 

He didn’t.

“Why are you beating yourself up over this case?”

“Lily Evans could still have been alive when we first got to her parents house. If I had taken this seriously, we could’ve got to her and maybe she’d be alive right now.”

“Sarge,”

“And I know I should have listened to Liv, she’s got this down to a science. But I just wanted to-“

“Dodds, what did I say about interrupting me?” You chided, and he held his hands out to you in surrender. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but she was gone the moment she got in the van. It’s not easy to accept that at first, but some of these cases, you have to believe it if you want to get through it.”

“I thought it was going to be an easy transition to SVU. Major Crimes was high stress, kidnappings, negotiations, terrorism, all while having the eyes of the media and the city on you.” He shook his head. “I thought I was doing okay. I was listening to the Lieutenant, I was really learning from her, from all of you really. I thought I was bringing something to the table. But Lily, she was just a kid.”

You placed your bag down on the floor, moving to sit in the chair next to his desk.

“My second case with SVU was the Johnny D take down. I transferred from Brooklyn Homicide, so I thought I’d seen it all. Until I walked into that basement, and found four teenagers and kids locked in that basement as sex slaves. I threw up as soon as we got out of the basement, just barely missed Rollins. I couldn’t sleep for the next week, and when I finally cracked, Liv was there to center me. She reminded me why we did this job, of all the people we help, despite the most gruesome cases we catch. It takes a special cop to work in SVU, and you don’t stick it out, you don’t feel this guilt if you’re not cut out for it.”

He looked at you for a few seconds, not saying anything as he took your words in.

“How do you get up and come back to work every day?” He asked and let out a long breath.

“I took Liv’s advice: go home, talk to someone you love, and don’t make this job your whole life. Easier said than done.” You said with a laugh and he joined in. “But you’ve got your dad, he’s been on the job your whole life. He knows what it’s like.”

“He’s not really the talking type. And I’ve never… failed at something before. He expects a lot out of me here, and I want to prove to him that I’m cut out for this.”

“You’re not failing here, Dodds. Trust me, you’d be hearing an earful from Rollins and Fin if you were. I’m actually really impressed with how you’ve adjusted. We’re not an easy squad to assimilate to.”

“You can call me Mike,” he started, a small smile on his face. 

You felt your cheeks get warm, and you hoped to god they weren’t bright red. 

“Okay, Mike. Then pack up your stuff, cause you’re going to eat the best Chinese food of your life tonight.”

“What about Carisi’s fantastic meal?” He joked as he closed whatever files were open and shrugged his coat on.

“He’ll understand. Now come on, we don’t want them to run out of egg rolls before we get there.”

“Alright, alright,” he joked, running to catch up to you. You waited in silence for the elevator, and you felt a shift in the dynamic between you two. A good shift, one that happens when you finally earn the trust of your partner. 

Mike spoke your name as you stepped into the elevator, and you looked over at him.

“Thank you for listening. It means a lot, to know that you have my back, in the field and otherwise.”

You smiled, gently clapping his shoulder as you responded, “Anytime you need an ear, I’m there. You’ve got a squad of incredible listeners surrounding you now. All we ask is the same in return.”

“You’ve got it.” He added without hesitation.

Mike Dodds was going to be just fine here in SVU.

****

The next time you saved Mike Dodds wasn’t exactly your finest moment.

Mike accompanied you to Gary Munson’s house on what was supposed to be a quiet Sunday afternoon. But after a call from his wife Lisa, saying she was finally ready to leave, your Sergeant graciously offered to accompany you to the house.

No one wanted to be back in the presence of Gary Munson, the rogue corrections officer accused of assaulting dozens of female inmates. The case hadn’t even gone to trial yet and it was already causing a lot of tension in the department, not to mention the DA’s office.

“Dragging me out on a Sunday is pretty cruel, even for you Detective.” Mike commented as you walked up to the Munson house. “I smell egg rolls and fried rice in the near future.”

“Hey, I paid last time. It’s not my fault you have a bleeding heart almost as big as mine and agreed to come along.” You said with a grin as you knocked on the front door.

Dodds had been at SVU just shy of a year now, and since the Lily Evan’s case it sort of became tradition to celebrate the closing of a case with that same greasy Chinese food. Even as the cases took longer to close, the two of you could be found there at least twice a week. It became your place, somewhere to meet when it was two a.m. and a case was keeping one of you awake; on a Saturday afternoon when the two of you had nothing better to do with the time off work; and of course, as a reward for helping each other out whenever they asked.

You waited for a minute before knocking on the door again as Mike walked around to the side yard.

“She calls and says she’s ready to leave, and when we get here there’s no answer?”

“What was her exit plan?” Mike asked, joining you back on the steps.

Before you could answer, Lisa opened the front door.

“Hi,” she began, “sorry for keeping you guys waiting.”

“Is everything okay?” You asked, attempting to take one foot in the door when Gary stepped out into view.

“Everything’s fine here.” He answered for his wife, her body stiffening at his voice.

“Mr. Munson, we're here at your wife’s request.”

“I… overreacted when I called you guys. We’re handling things.”

“That’s good to hear. So, you don’t mind if we come in?” Mike asked, trying to get some control of the situation.

“Do I need to call my lawyer?”

“We’re not here to talk about the case.”

“Oh right, you’re here because Lisa wants to leave me. Forgive me, I’m just a big, dumb CO.”  Gary commented as you shared a look with Dodds. 

He was already spiraling.

“Mr. Munson, we don”t want any trouble.”

“Great,” he replied, opening the door further for you to enter. “Neither do I.”

Lisa let out a deep breath as you entered the house behind her. You watched as Gary talked to their kids, trying to convince them everything was normal, but they were too smart for it.

“Why don’t I go upstairs with her and start to pack.” Lisa suggested as she moved towards the stairs, motioning you to follow.

“No.” He commanded back, causing you both to freeze. “She can stay down here with the kids. You go up.”

This was going to be the power struggle of all power struggles. You walked over to sit with the kids as Mike and Gary went into the kitchen. You exchanged another look with him, and he gave you a small nod. It was okay.

The kids slipped their headphones on as you tried to listen in on the conversation in the kitchen, but you couldn’t hear much. You took out your phone to text Liv, a gut feeling telling you this wasn’t going to end easy or as you planned.

You waited for a few more minutes as Lisa packed a bag for her and the kids before coming back down the stairs.

“Alright, Tommy, Annie, backpacks.” She handed her children their bags as they hugged their dad goodbye.

“Ok kids, let’s go,” you started, trying to shuffle them and Lisa out the door.

“Wait, I don’t get a goodbye hug from Mommy?” Gary asked, now cornering Lisa on the stairs. “Isn’t that the jacket I bought you for your birthday?”

“Okay, we’re going to go now,” you ushered the kids onto the stoop, still keeping one foot in the house as you saw Lisa throw her jacket on the floor.

In one motion, he grabbed Lisa off the stairs, pulled a gun from his waistband, and slammed the front door in your face, kicking you onto the step.

“Gary! Open the door!” You yelled out as you got to your feet, banging on the door. “Right now Gary! Open the door!”

After thirty more seconds of incessant knocking with no response, you turned to find the kids huddled together on the sidewalk.

“Ok guys, it’s okay. My sergeant is just going to talk to your parents for a couple more minutes. While we wait, can you go into your nice neighbors house until I come get you?” You noticed the older woman two houses down standing on the stoop, a young girl and a dog with her.

You walked the kids over quickly while calling this in over the radio. You checked your phone to see Liv had answered your earlier text, and that she was already on her way for backup. She should have just come along in the first place.

Instead of going back up the front steps, you ducked under the bay window to try and get a look inside the house. You could see Munson holding Lisa in a headlock, his gun pointed at Mike as he handed over his own guns.

“Shit,” you breathed out, knowing this was going to end with a gunshot from someone.

You backed away from the window and called Mike, hoping to god that you could try and talk Munson out of this before any patrols showed up.

“Detective, you’re on speaker.” Mike said when he answered, the sigh you let out when you heard his voice was a little too loud.

“Dodds, what’s going on in there? The kids are asking for their mom.”

“Tell them she’s not going anywhere.” Gary piped in, his voice beginning to shake.

“I’ve told Gary that we can talk this through, get him what he wants, what he needs.”

“That’s right, I’m here, listening to you, my Sergeant is listening. Do you want me to call a family member, or your union rep?”

“No, I’m done talking. I want you to get my kids somewhere safe, that is all I need. Now, hang up the phone.”

“Mr. Munson-“ the line went dead before you could finish.

“Dammit,” you ran your hands through your hair, trying to think of a way to slow this down. You ran to the back door, then to the storm door, both locked. He had planned this from the moment he came home. This is always how this was going to end.

Back at the front of the house, you saw Liv pulling up and you ran to meet her.

“What’s going on? I got the radio on the way over.”

“Munson’s holding Dodds and Lisa in the house, he’s armed.”

“You didn’t search him?” She asked, and you tried not to take the agitation in her tone personally.

“Lisa told us there were no weapons in the house, we confiscated his piece already. I was getting the kids in the car when all of this went down.”

“Okay. Is anyone hurt?”

“I spoke to Dodds five minutes ago, and they both seemed fine for now. But he doesn’t want to talk anymore.”

You heard the distant sirens, and you could only imagine the escalation Gary was making inside the house.

“Is there another way in?” Liv asked as the first of the patrol cars made their way down the street.

“Back door and storm door are both locked, I haven’t checked for anything else.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

She ran over to the first patrol car, getting ready to set a perimeter around the street and then the house as the rest of ESU began to roll onto the street. Liv kicked it into gear, ordering everyone around and trying to come up with the best plan of action.

It wasn’t until Finn got out of his car that you ran into action to. You began to debrief the hostage negotiators on your last phone call, and to describe Gary’s demeanor through the entire duration of this visit. You stressed to them that he was no longer in the talking mood, but they were still going to try.

“ESU is going to try to plan a route in. You know the layout, what’s the best way in.”

“Fastest and clearest is through the back door. But, Lieutenant, give me two more minutes to find another way in. If I can get in there, one female cop is better than twelve SWAT guys taking him down.” You asked, trying to prove yourself in an attempt to earn her forgiveness quicker.

She thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding her head. 

“You have a minute to sweep the perimeter again for a secondary entrance. Go.”

You wasted no time in running back through the driveway, past the back door and into the backyard. All the shades were drawn except for one cracked piece, giving you a clear shot to the living room. Munson had a tighter grip on Lisa, his gun still pointed at Mike.

You had to get in there. 

The back windows were locked as well as the doors, but you weren’t going to give up. On the side of the house, you noticed the top window opened the slightest bit, and prepared to go in. 

You pulled a lawn chair over to give yourself a boost, and took a deep breath in. The window opened quietly at first, and you could begin to hear Munson’s voice again. Slowly but surely you got the window open in silence, and you swung one leg in to the kitchen.

You froze for a second, stuck without a view of what was going on in the living room, praying no one could hear you. After a few seconds, you swung your other leg in, quickly getting to your feet and grabbing your gun.

“… maybe your lawyer will plea out, 9 out of 10 corrections officers cases don’t make it to trial.” Mike was still trying to talk him out of it, even with a gun to his face.

You peaked around the corner quickly, making sure no one had moved since you looked through the window.

“Munson, drop the gun!” You yelled out as you entered the room, catching him off guard enough for Mike to make a move. 

Lisa slipped out of Gary’s grip and ran over to you as Mike struggled for Munson’s gun. 

“Put it down, Munson!” You yelled out again, but before you could move closer, a shot went off and Mike went down.

Gary froze, putting his arms up as you ran into action. You kicked the gun away from him as SWAT barged in, all guns pointed to Munson.

“Take him.” You yelled out to them as you turned to Mike, finally able to give him your full attention. You knelt down next to him on the floor, watching as he applied pressure to his shoulder. “Hey, can I take a look?”

He nodded, breathing heavily through his nose. You pulled his hand away as blood continued to pour out, but it was a through and through, thank god.

“It’s a clean shot, Mike.” You said as you placed his hand back over the wound, covering your hand with his to apply more pressure. “Hey, stay with me. The medics are on their way in.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He got out with a grimace as Liv led the medics into the house.

“I wasn’t just going to leave you in here.” 

You moved out of the medics way, your hands covered in Mike’s blood as they treated him.

“He’s right. What the hell were you thinking climbing in through the window without any view?” Liv asked, slightly less agitated than earlier.

“I was thinking I’m the one who left him in here.” Her eyes softened the slightest, the way they always do when she cares for someone. “And I think you would have done the same thing.”

“Careful,” she replied, a small smile crossing her face. “You don’t want to end up like me.”

“There are worse people to be.”

They finished wrapping Mike up, and you two followed him out to the ambulance. 

“Detective,” one of the medics called out to you as they loaded him in. “He’s asking if you can ride along.”

You looked to Liv for approval who gave you a nod.

“Keep us updated.” She added as you hopped in the back of the bus, sending her a thumbs up before they shut the door.

Mike fell asleep almost as soon as he got in the ambulance, but the medic assured you he was stable. He had lost a good amount of blood, but given the position of the shot, they were confident he would be okay.

The surgery was quick, and the doctor said it was a routine procedure. He’s been sleeping and recovering in the ICU for a couple hours, and the rest of the squad would be on their way over once he was awake.

“Detective, he’s awake.” A nurse came out to find you, escorting you to Mike’s room.

He was sitting up straight, arm bandaged from shoulder to elbow, but he looked completely unfazed.

“I come out of a workout class looking worse than you do right now. How is that fair?” You said as you walked into his room.

“Well, I regularly go to the gym, so that helps.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to smack him on his bad shoulder.

“Ok, hotshot, we get it.” You let out a breath, taking in his hospital state again. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot. I know it was a through and through, but God, it hurt pretty bad.” He said with a laugh, only to grab at his shoulder, moving too fast for his new injury.

You thought about what he said earlier, how you shouldn’t have gone in the house on your own. Maybe he and Liv were right. If you hadn’t gone in, without telling anyone, without any backup, he may not have been shot. It could’ve ended peacefully, without any harm to anyone.

“What you said earlier, you were right. I don’t know what I was thinking going in by myself. I put you and Lisa in danger, I got you shot. If you didn’t get the jump on him he could have hurt you two even worse-“

“Stop.” Mike interrupted you, placing his hand on your forearm, gesturing for you to sit down on the side of the hospital bed. “I didn’t say that because I was mad at you. I don’t blame you for me getting shot. You shouldn’t have come in because it could have been you in this hospital bed, with a gunshot wound much worse than mine. And I wouldn’t be able to have that on my conscience, you getting yourself shot for me.”

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, instead you just sat there, looking at the man that you most definitely would have taken a bullet for. And you’re pretty sure he would do the same for you; how terrifying to know someone cared for you like that.

“I’m really glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done…” you trailed off, not wanting to think about what could have happened.

“You shouldn’t have come in, but if you hadn’t, I don’t know if I would be sitting here, relatively unscathed.” he reached over, grabbing your hand in his. “Thank you for that.”

You squeezed his hand in recognition as your eyes began to water, not knowing what to say next.

“Are you sure you want to stay with us in SVU? You get shot twice in one year, that would have most people running away.”

“And let you drink the squad room out of coke on your own? Not a chance.” He replied.

“Good. Joint Terrorism would be too boring for you anyway.” You said with a smile.

“In all seriousness, I feel like I can make the biggest difference here. There’s time to move up the ranks later. Right now, I want to be at SVU, with you by my side.” He admitted, as his hand held onto yours tight.

There was a shift in the air, a conversation the two of you had been avoiding for a few months. It wasn’t the time now, and it may not be for a while, but now it’s out there. And neither of you are going anywhere.

A knock on the door pulled you out of your bubble, dropping Mike’s hand as the rest of the squad came into the room. They greeted Mike, lightly ribbing him about having nine lives.

A hand fell on your shoulder, and you looked up to find Liv behind you. She had a knowing smile on her face, but you knew she’d never ask. At least, not yet.

Instead, you focused on your family in the room, and how grateful you were for everyone to be here, safe and sound.

****

The fourth time you saved Mike Dodds happened off duty.

You agreed to be his date to an NYPD fundraising gala that his father was dragging him too. Mike warned you that they were a long night of politics and fake smiles, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious to see how the brass lived.

Unfortunately, Mike hit the nail on the head with the political atmosphere. You’d been at the gala barely an hour and you’d already spoken to two people running for district attorney. If you weren’t listening to someone’s campaign pitch, then you were hearing from the brass how much trouble the SVU squad caused the department, despite the “good work” we all do.

“I hate to say I told you so, but, I told you so.” Mike said while handing you a glass of wine. 

“How many of these has your dad dragged you to?” You asked as he took a sip of his beer.

“Too many. And now that I’ve ruined his dreams by staying at SVU, he’s going to continue to drag me to them as punishment.”

“Well, if the drinks and the food continue to be free, I’ll come to as many of these as you need me too.” You offered.

“First I’m paying for Chinese food, now I’m paying for galas, you’re an expensive date.”  Mike joked as you shoved his completely healed shoulder. He hasn’t let you pay for dinners since he got shot.

“That’s the price you pay for greatness.” You said with a smile, making him laugh. “Is he really still pissed at you for not going to JTTF?”

“The Five-Year Plan has been officially ruined, I’ve been told. I must have really pissed him off if he’s calling Matt and begging him to come home.”

“Your brother?” You asked.

The little brother that Mike had spent his whole life looking out for. He was responsible for him since he was a kid, and every one of Matt’s failures was considered one of Mike’s in his fathers eyes. The last time Mike talked to him was last year, after he picked him up from rehab. He was catching a plane to Mexico City with no plans of coming back.

“He called me last week, asked to help get dad off his back. I guess I’m the new disappointment in the family.”

“Hey, if your dad wants to go play savior with your brother, let him. But don’t let him and his agenda get in your head. He’s no better than these political puppets surrounding us.”

“Speak of the devil,” Mike muttered under his breath, nodding his head behind you.

You turned to find his father, Chief William Dodds, approaching the two of you.

“Hi son,” he greeted Mike with a firm handshake, then turning his attention to you. “Detective. It’s nice to see you.”

“You as well, Chief.” You shook his hand next, resisting the urge to squeeze too hard.

“Don’t you two clean up nice. Most cops that come to these things have no idea how to dress, they’ve spent too much time in the ranks to know what life is like outside of it.” Chief Dodds commented, and you gave a polite nod of your head.

If you didn’t care so much about Mike, or your career, you would’ve chewed his head off right here, right now.

“Well, we don’t have time for all the show business like you guys do, we’re busy keeping the city safe.” Mike added.

“My son, he gets so defensive, takes every comment personally.” His father said and turned towards you. “Mike didn’t tell me you were coming tonight, or else I’m sure he would have asked me to be on my best behavior.”

“Dad,” Mike tried interrupting him, but it was no use.

“But I never thanked you, for acting quickly at the Munson call. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, Mike could have been hurt a lot worse.” You took the compliment from the Chief, but waited for the other shoe to drop; you knew when you were being set up. “Although if you didn’t leave him in there alone with an armed perp in the first place, we could have avoided all of this. Nevertheless, it was handled, and I’m sure you acted just as your Lieutenant trained you to.”

It was no secret that Chief Dodds was not Liv’s biggest fan. He undermined her every chance he could, and he never tried to understand how SVU was different from every other department. Mike being placed as the Sergeant was his way of getting an inside scoop, but boy did that backfire on him.

And once you piss off Olivia Benson, you piss off her whole squad.

“Our Lieutenant is the best commanding officer I’ve had in my time at the department. Ask anyone that has served with her in SVU and they will tell you the same thing. It’s a shame that you didn’t get the opportunity to learn some things yourself. A lot of people hold her in high regard, so I’d be careful what you say about her around here.” 

“And if I were you, I’d watch my tone around your District Chief, Detective. Especially with your Sergeant standing in ear shot. It’s clear to me that SVU has no respect for the chain of command, and it would be a shame for you to learn this the hard way. Mike has already had to deal with the repercussions of being tied to SVU.” Chief Dodds threatened, and you actually had the audacity to scoff at him.

Mike began defending you, but you stopped him, holding your hand out in front of him.

“I don’t scare easily, Chief, and it's going to take a lot more than threatening my reputation to get me to turn my back on Lieutenant Benson and Special Victims. As for your son,” you looked back at Mike, his eyes steady on you the entire time. “Sergeant Dodds has been an incredible asset to our squad, so much so that our Lieutenant wanted him to stay in permanently, which I know is a sore spot for your ego. So you can continue to take shots at me, and my character, because you don’t really know me. But I’ll be damned if you think I’m going to stand here and listen to you drag Mike’s name, and his stellar reputation through the mud because he decided to make his own path. One that doesn’t involve all these fancy parties and pictures that you so thoroughly enjoy.”

Chief Dodds was stunned into silence, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He looked at Mike who also had a stunned expression on his face, but a smile was starting to show through.

“Excuse me.” The Chief removed himself from the situation, moving on to the next party goer with a smile on his face.

Once he was out of ear shot, your shoulders deflated and you turned around to apologize to Mike. 

“I am so-“

“Do you want to dance?” He interrupted you, his smile now fully covering his face. 

It took a few seconds for you to actually hear what he said, and when you did, you couldn’t help but laugh. Clearly, he wasn’t mad about you going off on his father. 

“I’d love to.” 

Mike took your hand and led you to the small dance floor, weaving in and out of older couples dancing the night away to the orchestra. You quickly took in your limited audience, including two Sergeants from your precinct, and the deputy commissioner of communications. He wrapped his arm around your waist drawing your attention back to him.

“You alright?” He asked as you curled your hand around his shoulder.

“Just a lot of people here, watching,” you said as Mike began to laugh.

“You just chewed my dads head off, a district chief, in front of these people, and now you’re scared of them seeing you dance with two left feet?”

“I don’t have two left feet.” You replied, squeezing his shoulder in jest. “I just don’t want people talking about me, that’s all.”

“Cmon, they’ve got better things to talk about than me and you.” 

“If they heard anything I said I’m sure they’ll be talking about the crazy SVU detective for ages.”

“Hey,” he squeezed your waist, drawing your attention back to him. “No one has ever stood up to my dad like that, not for me.”

“Well someone should have. I know he’s your dad and you love him, but that doesn’t give him the right to control your life or talk down on you.”

He shook his head as you continued swaying together, slowing down a bit to match the tempo of the music.

“It means a lot for you to do that. And if I wasn’t so impressed with your outburst, I would’ve done the same for you. I should have.” 

“I’m not worth getting into a fight with your Dad, Mike. Like he implied, I’ve got no real future outside of SVU, not that I’m really looking.”

“You’re worth it to me.” Mike said, eyes locked on your own. “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have made it a week in the squad. You’ve changed my perspective on a lot, both on the job and off.”

You smiled, lightly ducking your head as you felt the blush creep onto your cheeks. 

“Well you’re not so bad yourself, Dodds. You’ve taught me a lot too, maybe too much. One day I’m coming for that Sergeant’s shield of yours.” You joked, and he threw his head back in laughter. 

It was so nice to see him like this. It was rare to get a moment of pure happiness on the job, and you weren’t sure how honest you wanted to be about changing your relationship outside the precinct.

“As soon as you pass the Sergeants exam, you can have it. You’d be better at this job than me any day.” 

You moved a step closer to Mike as more people stepped onto the dance floor. You’d never seen this many cops dancing in your life. 

“I meant to tell you earlier, but, you look beautiful tonight.” Mike said, trying not to be obvious in looking you up and down. 

You were blushing now for sure.

“Would you take it back if I told you I had to borrow this dress from Liv?” You had panicked last night, not knowing what to wear to a gala, and not wanting to embarrass Mike. 

“Not a chance, extra points for trying so hard.” You laughed as he put some space between you. 

“Mike, I know you’re a show off, but you better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” You warned, but it was too late as he lifted up your arm, gently spinning you underneath him. He smoothly pulled you back into him as a few people cheered for you. “Do you have to be good at everything?”

“Unfortunately, I do.” You hid your smile in his shoulder, not missing the way his hand slid comfortingly over your waist and lower back.

And unfortunately, you fear you could get used to this feeling.

****

The first time you were saved by Mike Dodds was in the middle of a bar fight.

This wasn’t your finest moment, yet you rarely seemed to be on your best behavior around Dodds.

The two of you were undercover in a joint operation with Vice. The bar had been home to an underground gambling ring for years, and a few weeks ago you got credible intel that they may be branching out into sex trafficking.

Three other Vice detectives were in the bar with you as their Captain and the rest of their squad surveilled from an unmarked van outside.

“You want a refill?” Mike asked as you finished your second club soda, trying to hide the sour look on your face from all the bubbles.

“And pretend I’m not choking on this awful carbonation instead of a smooth vodka? No, I’ll pass.”

He got the bartender’s attention and ordered himself another alcohol free beer and a Diet Coke for you.

“Thanks.” You tipped your glass to his and took a refreshing sip before conducting another once over around the space. 

“Simmons is still situated by the door, Ruiz and Lawrence have been under for an hour now.” Mike stated into his earpiece, updating the team outside. 

There was no timetable on this, and as far as Liv was concerned, we were on our own in terms of conducting our investigation.

“This whole joint investigation thing is feeling a little one-sided to me.” 

“Well give it a little longer before doing a lap to check-in with Simmons. If they don’t want to help us, they can tap in two of their guys from outside. Lieu already made that clear to their Captain.” Mike said before taking a sip of his non-alcoholic delight, his face scrunching in discomfort.

“Looks delicious.” You said with a smile, earning a laugh from the Sergeant. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, have you talked to your dad since the gala a few weeks ago?”

“Oh, you mean since that SVU detective tore a Department Chief to shreds?” He joked as you rolled your eyes. “I have, and he was extremely talkative thanks to the fact I avoided him for a week after.”

“Do I owe you Chinese food for the rest of the year in order to keep my job? I should know that my outbursts don’t come cheap.”

“He told me that he was impressed by you.” Mike started, a smile slowly appearing on his face. “He was mostly upset about your blatant insubordination, especially in such a public place, but he was impressed. I think he may even like you.”

“Are you messing with me?” You asked, not fully trusting the relaxed smile he was giving you.

“He asked that I bring you along to the next gala, all of them actually, ‘if it wouldn’t be too much trouble’,” he finished in air quotes, signifying the direct words from Chief Dodds. “My father is impressed with you, and probably wants you to be his next conversational opponent.”

“And what did you say, you know, about bringing me along?” 

You hoped you didn’t sound pathetic, or eager, or anything other than an inquiring friend. But it was hard to act normal when you felt the butterflies in your stomach and your heart rate increasing over the fact that Mike and his dad were talking about you.

“I said I’d have to ask her. Not sure how she feels about spending so much of her free time with the Dodds.” He said before turning in his chair to face you. “But I told him I had a good feeling you would, you don’t just tell off a Police Chief for a work friend. And of course, as long as Liv lets you keep borrowing her clothes.”

“Funny,” you said while shoving his shoulder, earning another laugh from him. It was then that you saw Ruiz head up the stairs, subtly motioning for you to meet her in the bathroom. “Ruiz is back up, I’m gonna go check-in with her.”

You walked straight to the bathroom, having to dodge a noisy bachelorette party on your way. Ruiz was washing her hands when you walked in, and you quickly cleared all the stalls before she began talking. 

She kept it short so that she could get back to the game, but they weren’t getting far on the sex trafficking front. Apparently the boss was going to be here later on, but even then there was no guarantee he would offer anything up. Their investigation, of course, was going to be handled by the end of the night, but there were no promises for us. 

You waited a full three minutes to exit after Ruiz in case anyone was watching her. When you left the bathroom and started making your way back to Dodds, you saw a Blonde woman sitting in your seat, cozying up next to him at the bar. As you got closer, you recognized her from the bachelorette group, a sparkly pink sash giving her away.

“Hey, everything okay?” Mike asked as you joined the two of them.

“Yeah, just a bit of a line in the bathroom.” You said, watching as the new girl continued to look Mike up and down. “Did you make a new friend?”

“I’m Alex!” She jumped in, big smile covering her face as she moved to place a hand on Mike’s arm. “I came up to get a round of shots for my group of friends. It’s Lizzie’s last weekend as a single woman, and we cannot let her be sober for one second of it. But then I got distracted by Mike over here - a guy as handsome as him shouldn’t be sitting alone at a bar.”

“Well, luckily I came back in the nick of time.” You said, hoping she would order her shots and be on her way. 

“I was telling him about our weekend - we’re down here from Albany, we’re not city girls. We’re headed down the street for our next stop, apparently there’s a popular karaoke bar that all the famous people stop in at. I told Mike he should come with us, invite a few of his cute friends along too to keep the party going.”

“I don’t really see him joining you for the rest of your night, Alex, but thanks for the invite.” You replied while taking a step toward Mike, lightly wrapping your arm around his shoulder, hoping she would take a hint. 

“Okay.” Alex said with a chuckle before continuing, “But you should be careful, leaving your man alone in a bar with those pretty brown eyes of his, cause someone’s gonna come up and take him away.”

“His eyes are hazel, actually, they’ve got a little bit of green in them depending on the lighting. I know it might be hard for you girls from upstate to differentiate colors, so I can help you out.”

You never considered yourself to be a jealous person, especially over someone who wasn’t even yours to have. But something about this girl coming up to Mike on this night, after the recent events that have gone down between the two of you, you felt a little protective over him.

“Everything alright over here Alex? Where are those tequila shots?” Another blonde woman with a pink sparkly sash came over to us, checking in on her friend and drinks.

“Yeah, they’re coming. Just trying to tell my new friend here to keep an eye on her boyfriend or he may decide to join the group of pretty out of town girls for the night.”

“Listen, Alex,” you remove yourself from Mike, taking a step closer to the girl who was really ruining your already shittiy night of undercover work. “I don’t know how bar etiquette works at your little townie spot up in Albany, but us city girls like to take the fight outside.”

“Alright, why don’t we just continue our night and let you girls go back to your party.” Mike interjected, feeling his hand on your lower back, steadying you out as Alex only laughed.

You took another step toward her, not knowing what your next move was, before the bartender stepped in.

“You,” he pointed to you, then to the door. “Fighting’s gonna get you thrown out any night lady. You’re done.”

“Thank you, sir,” the girls replied.

Before you could open your mouth to say anything else, Mike was standing behind you, arm wrapped around your waist to lead you toward the exit. Simmons eyed the two of you as you walked out, shaking his head with a smile on his face. You weren’t going to live this down.

The two of you made it down the block before breaking away from each other, looking back to see if anyone followed. When you looked back at Mike, his hands were on his hips, a growing smile on his face. 

“Don’t,” you warned while running a hand through your hair. “Don’t say anything.”

He didn’t, but he couldn’t keep his laughter in any longer. You wanted to yell at him, tell him it wasn’t funny, that there was still an investigation going on, and this was completely embarrassing for you both. Instead, you joined in his laughter.

“Were you really going to fight the innocent bachelorette party from Albany?” He asked through his fits of laughter as you rolled your eyes.

“Of course not. But how else was I supposed to get the drunk bridesmaid away from you so we could continue our surveillance? Offer her more sparkles?”

“Or offer to buy the next round of shots.”

“Now you tell me,” you said as you leaned against the side of the building. “At least we didn’t mess up the whole op, then I’d be in really deep shit not only with Liv but with Vice, and there’s nothing I hate more than owing a favor to a Vice cop.”

He nodded, agreeing with you as he settled in next to you. You knew you should go check in with the Captain, confirm they don’t need you for anything else before leaving the investigation, but you weren’t going to move until Dodds did. And the way he relaxed next to you, you had a feeling he didn’t want to leave any time soon.

“No one ever notices that my eyes are hazel, you know. It’s kind of weird how you hit the nail right on the head with the fact about them turning green.”

You turned to look at him, a little smirk on his face as he leaned his head back against the wall.

“As weird as talking to your dad about your close friend’s gala availability?” You hit back, watching him laugh and nod along with your point. You smiled to yourself for a second, remembering the conversation from earlier. “You’re sure I don’t owe you, he does like me, or at least tolerate me?”

“Do you want to talk about how much my dad likes you or how much I like you? Cause let me tell you, I’ve got him beat by miles, I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

“Mike,” you started, watching as he pushed himself up to stand in front of you.

“Are you really going to look into my hazel eyes and tell me you don’t like me? That you weren’t going to get in a bar fight with a random girl for me?” He asked, and you let out a shaky breath.

“You know it took me a while to figure out your eyes were hazel, I thought they were brown for a while. I’m not some crazy person who just studies people’s eyes all day.” He nodded, trying to hide his smile as he let you finish, “and I wasn’t going to get in a fight with her. Maybe, maybe I would have shoved her, but I wouldn’t have thrown a punch.”

“Well that’s reassuring.” Mike added, and you couldn’t deny him now. Not when he was listening to you ramble on about his eyes, and his father, and all the weird things you two knew about each other.

“I like you too.” You confessed. “And you’re right, I wouldn’t attend galas and tell off police chiefs for just anyone. I’d only do it for you, Mike.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He said while wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

Mike’s eyes flickered down to your lips, taking his time bringing his gaze back to your eyes. You felt yourself nod the slightest bit, gently guiding him closer to you. His lips were soft against your own, slow and gentle as you kissed him back. He pulled away for a second, another check-in, before you leaned in again. You let him take the lead as you ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, trying not to smile as you felt his teeth graze your bottom lip.

“Sorry,” he mumbled against you, lightly pecking your lips a few times.

“Don’t be, I’m not going anywhere.”

Hours could have been spent lazily kissing Mike Dodds, feeling your stomach slowly build with butterflies. But you caught the smile he was trying to suppress, and it became contagious.

“Well,” he said with a laugh, gently resting his forehead against yours. “I guess you do really like me.”

“I guess so.” You leaned back to kiss him again, not wanting to let him go now that you know how good he feels. His tongue danced across your lips for a few seconds, and you relished in the feeling before slowly pulling back. “I don’t mean to be a total buzzkill, but we aren’t exactly going to be able to hide this for long at the station.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He assured you, gently kissing your forehead. “If some shuffling needs to be done, or conversations need to be had, we’ll take care of it.”

“So your dad may get to move you around after all, how nice.” You said with a laugh, as Mike nodded. If it meant you could be together, and Mike was happy with it, why the hell not. 

Before he could say anything else on the subject, his phone began to ring.

“Please don’t be Liv, please don’t be Liv,” you begged as Mike pulled away from you, quickly answering his phone.

“Hey Lieutenant,” he greeted Liv on the other end of the call and you closed your eyes. This was going to be good. “No, the Captain got it wrong. She got us thrown out for threatening to fight another woman.”

You rolled your eyes as he continued to talk to Liv, pacing the sidewalk trying to set the story straight and wrap up this godforsaken joint investigation.

Mike pulled the phone away from his ear now, walking back over to you.

“She wants to talk to you.” He said, trying to hand you his phone.

“No, she’s going to yell at me in that Liv tone, when I didn’t really do anything wrong!”

You caught his small smile before he gave you a quick kiss.

“Then you can explain that to her.” He said, holding out the phone to you. He kissed you one more time, for good luck and courage, before placing the phone in your hand.

You tried to hide your smile as you took a breath and placed the phone to your ear, ready to plead your case.

“Hey Lieu, I did not get into a bar fight with the bridesmaid from Albany.”

****

[akkpipitphattana]

I've seen a lot of ppl frustrated at Kant/the Captain for meeting up outside the bar, but my take on it was that was a deliberate power play by CC (not that I don't think he's inept enough to do so out of sheer stupidity!) - Kant had clearly been ignoring his calls, as implied by his convo with Style and explictly seen in his convo with Bison (and when he says he's sick of his 'customer' flip-flopping and doesn't want to talk to him anymore, that's obviously a declaration of intent vis a vis continuing his relationship with the police), and what do cops do when their informants aren't co-operating? They pile on the pressure. And one way to do so is to turn up in front of their informants in public spaces, because they are happy to use the threat of blowing their cover as leverage - talk to us, or else we'll make sure everyone sees/knows what you are. Wouldn't surprise me if they had someone tracking Kant and CC sent him a message along the lines of 'either you come out or we come in.' Look at Kant's body language - he doesn't want to be there, he's frustrated, he's on edge, but at this point he's also visibly exhausted and probably on some level thinking slightly self-destructively - if he gets caught then at least it'll be over, at least CC can't use him anymore, at least he doesn't have to tell Bison himself and see with his own eyes what the truth does to him.

I know fandom in general is sympathetic to the ACAB sentiment, but I'm getting the feeling ppl don't fully appreciate just how fucked up the dynamic between a handler and an informant can be at the best of times, let alone when the handler is corrupt or at the very least abusing their position! I've seen (valid) accusations of grooming levelled against Lilly, but it's not something that only happens to children - all it takes is a significant power differential and someone who is at risk. And we've seen CC using the classic combo of praise and pressure - he switches from flattering Kant ('I know you can do this', 'you certainly lived up to my expectations') to threatening him (which goes beyond the initial outright blackmail - when he says stuff like 'you think they'll let you live once we arrest them?', that is a threat, that is him saying to Kant: we won't protect you - you quit now, you're on your own).

I really appreciated your tags on the height as power play thing, because that jumped out at me when I watched that scene, and it was so sad seeing Kant desperately trying to wrest back the upper hand and suddenly looking so much younger and more vulnerable as soon as CC stood up. And I admit we're veering into fanon rather than canon now, but it just makes me even more curious about his timeline - how old he was when he got caught? Did CC start off as a sort of quasi-father figure? Is that how he reeled him in? Did it begin, not with blackmail, but with manipulating Kant into wanting his approval? Perhaps my most burning question, however, is: what if this isn't even the first time he's been used as a honeytrap?? And I know it's most likely just First being incaptable of not having ridiculous chemistry with every single man who so much as breathes in his vicinity (let's face it, there's a reason the top three 'ghost ship' pairings on that poll are all First-based! But isn't it also because of the potential Kant brings as a character - the potential backstory tween him and Style/CC, the potential hate-sex with Fadel...), rather than anything deliberate but...the *vibes*! If you lean into that side of things and headcanon that yes, Kant did in fact fuck that cop, then phew, there is SO much to unpack there!

This is why I don't get viewers sleeping on Kant - imo he's the most interesting character! There are so many layers! Out of the main four, we probably know the least about him, and part of that is because we can't even trust that what we've ostensibly learned is even true! That whole riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma thing? That's him! And not even because he's that complicated a person deep down - most of the meta I've read here has, I reckon it'll turn out, already nailed it. It's just that a combo of the tricksy and subtle way he's been written/played and the narrative role he's been given requires us to do some of the legwork ourselves (by which I apparently mean, you know, actually paying attention and caring??) to determine what in his words/actions/feelings/face is authentic and what's not, and when, and why, etc (heaven forbid we have to read between the lines!). Maybe some more casual viewers aren't used to that in their bls, and I totally get that ppl go into shows for different reasons and some just want the light entertainment/aesthetic appreciation of it all and aren't interested in deep dives and 10,000 word analyses, and that's absolutely their prerogative! We've all been there! But equally, you don't then get to complain about the writing/acting/characterisation when, by choice, you've skipped/missed/misinterpreted what's being put onscreen (disclaimer: I'm not saying no criticism allowed - there's things I'd have tweaked - just not when it's unfounded cos it's based on viewer indifference/ignorance). I don't want to use the term 'spoon-feeding', it feels ungenerous, and yet...!

Eek, this got away from me. Long story short: don't underestimate the lengths CC will go to just to keep Kant dancing to his tune, including risking his cover by showing up outside his favourite bar!

first of all, thank you for such a long ask, i love getting things like this in my inbox and be prepared for an equally long essay of my own shskdhd i will put it under a cut since your ask in itself is pretty long, but i agree with everything you said basically

i feel like every complaint i hear about kant just leaves me so very baffled. like at a certain point, you’re just coming up with reasons to be mad at him. and like i really wish that people would just fess up to the fact that they just don’t like him. that fundamentally something about him annoys them and that’s okay! you don’t need to like every character, but it pisses me off when people try to justify their dislike of anything by pulling reasons out of their ass. and like, okay, i understand that i obviously over analyze the shit out media i enjoy, and there are a lot people that don’t do that and watch with their brain turned off or just don’t put all the little things together. and that’s fine, but if you’re gonna complain about things at least make sure you’re complaining accurately. like some people didn’t even realize that christ was a cop until ep6 and apparently thought kant was doing it all for money?? when in their FIRST scene together, it is made explicitly clear that not only is christ a cop, but that kant is being blackmailed into this in order to keep his brother in his custody. you may not personally agree with everything he does, you may disagree how much of a choice he has in everything he does, but that does not change his motivations or the power that christ holds over him - and if you don’t realize at least those things, it’s not even a matter of media literacy, you are just not paying attention! or you’re skipping scenes and like, im not telling you how to enjoy shows, if you wanna skip scenes go ahead! but you can’t then complain about things that aren’t actually happening just because you tried to piece together what happened in the scenes you skipped 💀

and this complaint is especially silly because not only does kant explicitly emphasize that he’s been avoiding the captain and therefore we can assume the captain showed up to put pressure on him, but i feel like it’s been made pretty obvious that he doesn’t really have a choice in the meet up spots regardless? like they either meet at the police station/christ’s office, or he shows up in places that kant already is to talk to him, like the pool or the bar. so, i feel like getting mad at kant for that is so stupid? especially considering even IF meeting at the bar had been kant’s decision… he didn’t know bison was gonna show up?? he thought bison was in hiding and it’s his friend’s bar, so it’s a perfectly reasonable place for him to be and to be willing to meet up with the captain like?? he could not have predicted bison showing up after disappearing for a week post-failed murder attempt. like be serious.

when it comes to the acab aspect, i think trying to dive into people’s actual beliefs on that is a can of worms that will not end well shskdhd but in the very least, looking at it from a media perspective, i think in general people expect us to be supposed to root for the cops. like whether or not what you personally believe, the general sentiment in most media is that the cops are the good guys - because that’s the way we’re trained to believe that in society at large, so more often than not, it’s assumed that the cops in most shows are the good guys.

however, when you walk into a show like the heart killers, where 3/4 of our main protagonists are criminals (two murders and a former car thief) and the genre is explicitly a romcom, you have to also understand that the cops in a show like that are not gonna be the good guys! and i think in general, you have to be willing to understand that your personal morals and beliefs are not going to line up with the things these characters are doing. this is a show about assassins! if you’re going to try and argue for who’s morally in the right or who’s the most fucked up one, maybe this isn’t the show for you. and that’s okay!

all that to say you SHOULD be suspicious of the captain and his intentions - you should not trust him as some morally good figure because he’s been explicitly shown to be blackmailing and manipulating kant in all of this! he is a villain, explicitly so. and while i know we don’t have an exact age for when kant’s parents died and he had to start raising babe or for when he got caught, it’s very safe to assume this has been a long time thing. kant says their dad died young, babe says that kant raised him, so kant had to have been young when he had to start taking care of babe, and i’m assuming also pretty young when he got caught for his car thefts. so, it would not at all shock me if the captain saw a young, college-aged kant, who’d just lost his father and was desperately trying to keep himself and his pre-teen brother afloat, and saw an opportunity to put on the mentor role and mold this kid into what he wanted and needed. i think the lilly comparison makes perfect sense - because we’ve already been shown time and time again the similarities between the captain and lilly and the ways they manipulate kant, bison, and fadel. this being another way theyre similar would be no shock to me.

nor would it be a shock if the captain also made the relationship sexual at some point and kant having daddy issues and therefore being into it makes perfect sense as well shskdhd like you said i think it’s a combo of first having insane chemistry with everyone but also just kant’s character making these dynamics interesting - which is why first was the perfect casting choice they could have made shskdhd kant’s character in general is exceptionally fascinating to me, but i feel like i’ve made that pretty obvious with all my kant posting, and i don’t get how anyone can just write him off or view him as being one dimensional in anyway when he has SO MANY layers to him. he’s incredibly complex and that’s what i adore about him.

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

I KNEW IT!!! I knew that one of the two episodes left of the year had to be a holiday one aha!! *LE GASP* does that mean the last one will be sonic 3?

*nods* respect 👏

A Christmas special with TARI, oooh! and noticeably a shorter one too, huh. alright, let's-a GOOOOOOOO

(the following is my live reaction:)

aww, look at Tari being adorable (see that's how you get me, have my favorite characters do cute little hops and my life is yours)

bringing back the side characters LET'S GOOOO

CLENCH omg you're back I hope you can stay for the whole episode

ooooh tari's christmas list just dropped. hmmm let's see...

Saiko = KFC Theme Guitar (honestly slay) Mario = Spaghetti Necklace (whether he's going to wear or eat it, he'll enjoy it regardless) Kaizo = Scythe Polish Luigi = Gardening Kit SMG4 = Body Oder Spray (my man can't catch a break, "he stinks" canon) Belle = Nintendo Switch Case SMG3 = Dog Grooming Kit (for Eggdog awwww) Melony = How to draw Manga book (nice callback to "SMG4 and SMG3 Shop For Cursed Items" episode for Christmas shopping) Whimpu = Glasses Repair Kit Boopkins = Body Pillow Cleaning Kit (...) Bob = Karaoke Machine (that's actually sweet considering he is a rapper and the obvious choice would be a gun or smth, tari's a good friend) Rob = Corn Keychain

the cliche superhero transition *wheeze*

can I just say I love the fit Mario has on

1920's spaghetti?

i did not expect to see Sonic 06 (foreshadowing, eh?) and as a sonic fan, i gotta respect the hustle

now, i know it's supposed to be disgusting and you obviously have to put gross things here to convey that but... there's that eye imagery again.... *flashbacks ensue*

oooh Christmas party! I wanna see that!

aww tari did get clench a glove, maybe she didn't want to spoil the surprise too soon

also let's take a moment for that board in the bg:

"Random Text Here Shameless Advertising Happy Birthday smg4!" then something signed by a "Fan"

gotta love the small details

gonna be using this as a reaction pic for now on

Mario, don't you guys have a basement? pretty sure no one will grab the bag in there

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG OMG THERE'S NO WAY THIS IS REAL THEY ACTUALLY USED CANTRO'S OUTFIT DESIGN FOR THIS EPISODE THAT'S AWESOME DUDE (am aware that the Team used the model before in a previous ep but it was only shown for a few seconds, this is BIG)

new merch, eh?

...i'll take your entire stock

Oh Tari, it's okay to say no. Four did ask if you had time

beautiful commercial....wha? Bob, da hell are you doing? oh the usual

charity? understandable, have a good day

PFFT HAHAHAHA that grenade bit somehow got me

oh Four somehow teleported outside, chair and all

*wheeze* the way they just latch on the back of the cop car like that

BOOPKINS? ...yeah I should've seen that coming. and he's on a toddler seat too

question for the people: is UNO a board game? if not, then boopkins, you got it wrong buddy

RIGHT NOW?! boopkins she's got her hands full

GEEZ even I'm getting stressed

gonna be real here: it was actually a good choice to have the plot at a faster pace just so we could feel Tari's stress rapidly building up

oh hey Meggy's matching with Mario (love that for the M&M siblings) but Saiko, girl, please get yourself a coat :( you're gonna freeze

OH GOD Tari, i need you to breathe please! all of this is stressing you out, it's okay to say no

...oh no

i can't look dude, i know Tari's technically fulfilling everyone's wishes but this isn't the way to go :(

C'MON TARI, HOPE YOU CAN MAKE IT IN TIME PLEASE

NO NO NO *flips table* oh poor Tari

OH NO CAN I GIVE HER A HUG PLEASE? *shakes my laptop screen* LET ME INNNNNNN

WTF NO SHE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS

TARI DON'T LISTEN TO THOSE VOICES IN YOUR MIND, YOU ARE A GOOD FRIEND

...three? let me turn the brightness up

yeah that's Four's model but for some reason has Three's voice and line.... huh... (I'll come back to this later)

dude, i literally had to pause and leave the room

fuck you got me tearing up. Team, is that what you wanted from me?

no tari, it wasn't your fault :( you didn't ruin anything

YES TELL HER, SAIKO

STAWP I'M THIS 🤏 CLOSE TO FULL-ON SOBBING WTF

FAMILY IS FOUND 👏👏👏

...wha? Three?

wait, this whole episode was you were retelling what happened to Tari, to Eggdog?

...that actually puts things in a whole new context (I'll talk about it later)

*gets hit by the book*

AY Congrats to Mango for your art being featured in the end credits! 🎉 what an awesome Christmas gift from the Team honestly

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

This was a fantastic Christmas special! This really punched me in the gut (but in a good way). Everything, as always, was amazing. Excellent job, Team!!! Too bad Clench couldn't be in the whole episode.

Oh Tari, my girl :( I felt the emotional rollercoaster along with her and I just wanted to give her a giant hug.

Me 🤝 Tari → people pleasers with a dose of abandonment issues

Tari, I've been there and I promise your friends aren't gonna leave you. What you can offer, what you're able to, that is worth something. It doesn't need to be material, just being a part of their lives is enough. No matter how big, because to them, it could mean a lot more than what you think.

It's what I've been struggling too, that the people who have approached me only wanted what I could offer, but not as a person. And it takes time to heal and open up again to people who are worth opening up to, but you'll get there.

So, to remind you (yes, the one behind the screen): you are enough. We are enough. What you do, means a lot more to other people than what you think. You'd be surprised how much a second of your presence means to people, and they value that. It's why it's okay to say no when you aren't able to, they'll understand if they truly do care for you. I promise, time will come around for you to find the good ones.

That's why I love this show. It isn't just a "silly meme show", it's so much more than that. Yes, it does have its funny moments but it can be emotional, dramatic, exciting. And even relatable. That's the point of stories. Like I said countless times before:

Every story, no matter how outlandish it seems, is grounded in reality.

That's why I'm glad this was one of the last episodes of the year, to bring it all back that it's a story that we all can relate to in some way. That we aren't alone. Grab each other by the hand and take one day at a time.

Oh boy, sorry for that emotional stuff. Just wanted to bring some comfort 💙 With that, I'm gonna bring back what was the most interesting of this episode: SMG3

It wasn't until the very end that we realized this whole episode was Three retelling Tari's story not only to Eggdog but also to Terrance.

(If I remember the layout correctly, right in the same nook above the fireplace is where Terrance's photo is placed)

So, yes, he is reading a bedtime story to both of his sons. (just gonna cry in the corner for a second) He's such a dad 🥺

Anyway, i shall put my theorist goggles on:

Back in the part when Tari was too late to buy the Crew presents and the voices in her head were bashing her for failing, we have SMG3 for some reason come in:

To be clear, that's Four's model (notice the lack of chip of the cap) but Three is the one saying: "And I thought I was evil..." Other than being the narrator, Three wasn't in the story, so the question is why?

The obvious would be that the Team simply made a mistake and forgot that they placed this in. Ok, sure, that's if it was on accident. But what if they did it on purpose?

As Three stated in the episode "Trash Friends", he truly believes he's "the worst version of SMG4"

Think about it: the basic roles for them are Four as the hero and Three as a villain.

If Three was ever in an episode all of a sudden is because he is the negative force of the story. Recall back to the episode "Meme Hunters" when Three was forced to be "the conflict" of the episode.

Now, it may seem harmless but to him, he was afraid to be perceived as nothing more than "SMG4's cheap and worst copy"

And also in "You Used to Be Cool", people have noticed when he does lay back a bit from the usual villain/rival role and bash him saying, "This isn't you."

Hero or villain, you're seen differently by everybody

Then there was the whole "moral of the story" part:

Ofc, it's a whole thing that Three refuses time after time that he's not friends with the Crew

Now with the context that we have, we just got a peek into Three's fears/insecurities. Basically: if he opens up and accepts that he has friends, they might try and take advantage of him. So, what should he do? Close himself off, be an asshole, and deny, deny, deny.

Despite risking literally everything, INCLUDING HIS OWN LIFE, for them, he's doing this to protect himself from emotional harm when he's the most vulnerable.

There's indeed a trope that villains, especially redeemed ones, would have a sense of empathy of some kind. They know what's like to hit rock bottom, it's why they can empathize with the people who least deserve it, like Tari. (Even with Four back in IGBP.) So yes, as much as this is a story about Tari, it also relates to Three.

How can you have what you want when you're the one holding yourself back?

Three: "I also need love, understanding, and tenderness." [IGBP movie, Spanish dub] Three: " I just want the USB in that spaghetti in your stomach so I can use it to gain fame and love that SMG4 has too much of, okay?!" Mario: "...Is that it? Silly SMG3, you could of just told Mario instead of suppressing your inner emotions and your fear of being forever forgotten." [Trash Friends]

I mean, look at the last episode, he was so happy to know he got fanart.

The pressure he has, the role he has to play, what he's perceived as. It all affects him. Sure, he doesn't care that he's not perceived as the standard definition of a villain but he is really as human as he can be, with fears and desires.

Another way to see the "failure" part of the episode is that Three could never see Four in a negative light. Sure, Four has made terrible mistakes but past the YouTube Arc, Three has never seen Four as a villain (again, the role of the hero thing). Four is flawed just as he is, but since he's the one telling Tari's story, he replaces Four with himself in the narrative.

It's not confirmed it's because he cares about Four in this instant but it's obvious he has done it on purpose. All because that's the role he plays, one he absolutely fears, "an evil and worst copy of Four".

(For all we know, he might've altered some other things in the story we haven't even known about.)

AND the fact that he's telling it like a bedtime story to his son(s) as a warning, so they don't go through what he went through when he was younger (his whole parenting of reminding them that they're loved and appreciated for even the smallest things)

So, long story short: me 🤝 Tari 🤝 SMG3 → underlining abandonment issues

I've been noticing that a lot of points from past episodes are starting to resurface again (like IGBP) and I do hope we get to bring back what's going on with Three. Then, we might get Three having the same conclusion that Tari went through: as much as he wants to deny it to protect himself, he'll realize that it's okay to be vulnerable and have friends.

And he'd be surprised how much of what he did was valuable to them. That what he seeks is already right in front of him. After all, he's already part of the Crew :)

He would just have to let himself avert his view and see the truth.

[sammaggs]

4x02 Easy Money // 3x01 Burning Down the House // 3x02 Eclipse | Rift

Something that always strikes me about Ray's moment of reconciliation with his father (in a show that might as well be subtitled Fathers Kinda Suck Huh???????) is the way this scene in particular is shot.

They focus especially on Ray's bracelet as he extends his hand:

Which isn't the only time they've focused on Ray's bracelet during Important Character Building. There's of course, his intro in Burning Down the House,

The close-up on the similarity with Marcus Ellory's bracelet in Eclipse,

And a bunch of other moments over seasons 3 and 4 that basically use the bracelet as a quick visual stand-in for "Ray Kowalski's a little bit different."

It’s something Ray Vecchio would never wear; hell, it's something most cops would never wear. It's a little bit, as Ray Kowalski would say, queer.

And so is Ray Kowalski.

The decision to focus on this bracelet during the exact moment he offers his hand to Damian as a peace offering is therefore, to me, worth considering. I personally read this as an indicator that part of the reason for Ray's rift with his father was his queerness.

And the first thing Damian says to Ray after they shake hands?

He compliments Ray’s experimental hair! He mentions another “queer” element of Ray’s physical appearance—one his father has likely given him a lot of grief for—and accepts it. Metaphor!!

It is, of course, understandable that Damian would have wanted better for his son than to be a cop, and this isn't to say that there isn't a world where that might have been enough to cause Damian to lose meaningful touch with his son for a decade. It certainly made sense for Ray Vecchio's father, who was likely involved with low-level mob business. But it does seem pretty extreme for Damian!

There's also the beautiful scene where Ray tells Fraser about his family in the precinct mess. At the very end, it really does look like he has something else he wants to say... but then Huey interrupts.

Now I am, of course, aware that Ray was dating or engaged to Stella at the time he graduated Academy. So what could his queerness possibly have to do with anything?

Well, as much as many of us wish it would, your queerness does not disappear when you enter a straight-passing relationship. I've even seen interesting ruminations in fic that some of the early hardship in Ray and Stella's relationship—remember, they broke up for a while during her college tenure—might have been due to the fact that Ray was interested in (or even caught) experimenting with men.

A personal anecdote, if you'll indulge me: I was in my mid-twenties, four years into a relationship with a man I thought I was going to marry, and tormented constantly by the idea that I was, probably, queer. I had no way of finding out while I was in a committed monogamous relationship. When I told my own mother that I thought I was bisexual, she told me it was all right—but also to never, ever tell my father. Even though I was in a relationship with a man, the knowledge of my queerness would have been enough to potentially cause a rift between my father and I that I don't know if we ever could have repaired. [editor's note: i'm a lesbian now and my dad and I have a stellar relationship ftr but i did have to marry a whole man first so] [editor's note: i am also the editor]

Ray gets caught with a man while Stella is in college? Or Stella knows and tells Ray's mother while they're drunk on wine one night? Or Ray's parents find a magazine... or a photo... or a stamp from the wrong club... anything. There's a million reasons why Ray's queerness could and may have come up even while he was with Stella, even while he was monogamous. Because he was still queer.

I know there's a certain element of "sometimes the curtains are just blue, dude, chill” to all of my meta, but when it comes to this show in particular I very much operate in my analyses from a place of "everything is intentional." Small details really do matter; the way scenes are shot matter, the words that are used matter, there's intentionality behind it all. We can't know or understand authorial intent, of course, but we can read our own interpretation of that intent into it. (The author is dead but Paul Gross thought Callum Keith Rennie was hot, so)

This is, after all, another episode directed by George Bloomfield, who also did Burning Down the House and is responsible for that "love at first sight" moment in Say Amen, so the direction here is in the hands of someone who is clearly in lock-step with Gross around the inclusion of queerness in the latter seasons of the show.

This moment is interesting to me in particular when considering intent because I actually would prefer to see Ray and Damian's faces in this moment! I want to know what Damian is thinking, or if he frowns. I want to know if Ray looks nervous or concerned. We don't see that at all.

Instead of seeing them over the GTO, we get the close-up on the hands and the bracelet over the rebuilt engine.

Rebuilding!! They're doing it.

And that makes my little queer heart pretty happy.

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove (part six)

Leon Kennedy x female reader - the slowest, slow burn I swear Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five.

After the two of you had finished dinner, you’d began clicking through the channels in search of something to watch. It was far too early to go to bed, or even pretend to go to it - you’d just be staring at the ceiling, alone with your thoughts. Leon had insisted on taking the dishes to the kitchen despite your offer to help, said he’d leave them in the sink to soak. You know that’s a task you’re not going to be able to handle until your arm is free of the sling, fingers unsplintered. You want to say you’ll do all the cooking and cleaning when you can, but that implies that you think you’ll still be in the safe house, with him, in however long it’ll take to be free of the sling...

By all intents and purposes, Leon had planned to wait until you’d gone to bed to pull together his report, but the fact that Hunnigan hadn’t replied to his text yet was giving him an unsettled feeling in his gut. Maybe she was doing it on purpose, tit for tat - no information for him until he gave information to her.

After setting the dishes and pan in soapy water to return to later, he’d come back to the sofa and picked the laptop up off the coffee table, almost reluctantly.

“Er, I’m gonna start my report now, if that’s all right?”

You look at him, noting the laptop now tucked under his arm. The report, of course – he hadn’t typed it up yet, couldn’t have, not when you’d sobbed and then napped all over him.

It’s like emotional whiplash - the soft, almost domestic moments where you could pretend this whole situation was normal - it’s dinner and a movie with a friend, first date vibes but both of you too cautious to make a move.

And then there’s the startling reminder that, no, actually, you’re not even home, in a one-bedroom bungalow, no idea where you are in the state, or what state, with a man, a bodyguard you hardly know, after very nearly being murdered the day before and could possibly be murdered in the days to come.

You must’ve stared too long in response as he raises his arm to rub the back of his head – you wonder if it’s a nervous habit.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Dove. The report’s just a formality after the interview earlier, and it’s better that I submit today. It’s fine if you’d prefer not to be in the room, though. If you’re not comfortable, I can wait until you’ve gone to bed.”

“Oh… No, go ahead.”

“Are you sure? I’ll be listening over the audio again but I’ll use headphones, so…”

“Yeah. It’s fine – needs to be done, as you said.” You smile, turning your head back to the TV to end the conversation.

Leon had sat on the other couch, laptop resting on his knees, plugged in a pair of in-ear headphones. For over an hour, you’d heard him tap away at the keys, brows furrowed in concentration when you’d chance a look his way. The last few times his eyes haven’t been on the laptop screen but that of the TV, watching the dumb romance movie you’d settled on during your channel searching, hoping it would prove a good distraction.

“Leon…” You feel rude for interrupting his work, but he’d tugged out an earbud, hasn’t typed anything in a good while now, definitely not since the last ad break.

Not that you were keeping track.

“Mm?” He hums in response.

“Can I…?” He looks over as you clear your throat - start over. “Can I ask you something? If you’ve got a minute.”

There it is - the encouraging smile. “Of course, Dove.”

“It’s going to sound stupid, but those things – were they BOWs?”

“The Lickers?” The smile drops as he tugs out the other earbud. “Yeah, they are.”

“Lickers?” It sounds too cutesy for what they are, like a lollipop brand for kids and not indescribable monstrosities.

“There’s probably some scientific name that Umbrella would use, but that term came from a cop that first saw them in the Raccoon City Police Department. I guess we kinda kept the name as a weird tribute.”

“Right.” Maybe it was the cop’s way of trying to make them less terrifying on first sight.

“Why do you ask?”

“I didn’t think BOWs were actually…” You swallow, though you know it’s not going to dislodge the lump in your throat now. “..things, if that makes sense. Like, I knew we were trying to protect the public from biological warfare threats, but I thought it was man-made diseases, or poisoning the water supply… That sort of stuff.”

“You’re not wrong. Those things were once human, mutated by a man-made virus. I’ve had a fair amount of experience with different iterations of the virus over the years, unfortunately.”

“Mutated…?” You feel sick as the image once again flashes in your mind’s eye, the grotesque features of the Lickers juxtaposed with those of humans, your colleagues… “Fuck.”

“Yeah - fuck.”

“God,” you exhale, but it doesn’t feel enough. “I’ve been so naïve to what I’ve even been doing all these years - I didn’t know what we were actually trying to prevent.”

“You sound like you think you’ve been doing something wrong.”

“Well, maybe I have.” You protest. “What if I missed something that led to that the other day?”

“You did not miss anything.” He says firmly, closing the laptop – you’re not sure if he’s concluded his report or not. “Is that what happened to everyone - they were infected and then they mutated into those… those things?” You can’t bring yourself to say the identifier out loud.

“No, Dove, the… The bodies they recovered matched with the amount of people signed into the premises. Excluding you, obviously.”

“So, someone brought them there and set them on us?”

“Maybe. They’re still working on how they got in the building. They don’t exactly use doors, so…” He laughs, though it’s half-hearted.

The lump feels too big in your throat, tears burn at your eyes as you drop your head down but you know you’re not quick enough.   

Leon stands, soft footsteps on the carpet as he circles round the coffee table and sits down a cushion’s width away from you.

“Sorry – it was a bad joke.”

You shake your head, sniffling a little, eyes fixed on your thighs. “No, it’s not that, or you. It’s so stupid, but I wish I could go back and stop it…”

“I know.” He places a hand down on the sofa, swivels his knees in your direction. “But it doesn’t help to think like that – trust me. And I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to keep going.”

“And you’ve faced those things before.”

“More times than I’d like to count.”

“How do you stop them?” You look up then, wiping away the tears from your cheek with the heel of your left hand.

“You couldn’t have done anything differently back there, if that’s what you’re thinking. A couple of gunshots to the head or an explosion is the only thing that’ll stop them.”

“You can’t… you know, turn them back?”

He shakes his head, looking solemn. “Afraid not.”

“Maybe for the best. I don’t think I’d want to be turned back if I’d…” If you’d ripped off your colleague’s head.

“Hey, that is not going to happen to you.” He leans forward, places his hand on your knee - having you fall asleep in his arms earlier has removed all sort of boundaries, it seems. “I promise.”

You shake your head then. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can. I am going to keep you safe.” He pauses – wind it in a little, Kennedy. “And if it makes you feel better, you won’t be the first. Want my credentials? I rescued the President’s daughter from a cult, got her home safe.”

“The President’s daughter?” You hadn’t heard about that, but then again why would you? Probably wouldn’t want it announced to the world that the leader of the free world’s daughter had been abducted.

“Mm. She had a codename and all – Baby Eagle.”

“But you would know her name.”

“Yeah, but still used codenames on official comms.”

“So, what would happen if I told you my name?”

“Er, well, I’d…” There’s the arm raise, rubbing the back of his neck again. “I’d have to report in to HQ that your identity had been compromised, I’d be redeployed elsewhere and you’d get a new security detail.”

“Why?”

“Part of your protection is that I’m not a risk of revealing your identity if hostile forces used… certain methods of interrogation if we were to be captured.”

Your stomach twists at the code. “Torture?”

“I suppose.” He shrugs, like he’s going to collect your mail or water your plants when you’re on vacation as a favour.

“No, you can’t… How can you shrug at the prospect of being tortured for me? You don’t even know me.”

Leon wants to say he does know you, not completely but there’s things he’s picked up over the course of the day that he feels reasonably confident on. You don’t do good with sitting idle, has the feeling you keep yourself busy when you’re not locked in four walls. He got the feeling you’re thorough and proud of your work, or you were before this doubt crept in.

You like coffee with a splash of creamer, honey in your oatmeal. You don’t have any close friends or family nearby that will be wondering why you’ve gone AWOL just yet… ..and you’re definitely single, because if you had someone waiting at home you would’ve mentioned it they spoke about whisking you away to a safe house, or when Hunnigan said she was going to search your place.

He smiles. “I know you don’t deserve any of what’s happened to you over the last 24 hours, and that’s reason enough.”

“How can you be so sure I don’t?”

“Experience, Dove. Been in this line of work for a long time and, more importantly, I’ve been where you’ve been, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, relenting. “Sorry, my head’s just…”

He squeezes your knee. “I know.”

--

You leave the bathroom later that evening – Leon had ducked in at some point and prepared your toothbrush again – and find him leaned over the sink, scrubbing at a pan and a cloth draped over his shoulder. He’s left out the medicine – two painkillers, two sleeping pills - on the counter, next to a glass of water. It feels oddly domesticated again for what all of this is.

You walk over to the counter, slowly, as he continues washing the dishes.

“I forgot to ask earlier. Have there been any updates?”

He turns, gives you a sympathetic smile. “Not yet. But it’s only the first full day of the investigation, so I’m sure I’ll hear something soon, especially since I’ve sent the report over.”

He’d sent it whilst you were in the bathroom, half-expected Hunnigan to ring right there and then but his cell had remained silent, so he’d moved his attention to the dishes.

“Yeah, suppose other things will take precedence too.” Other things meaning families to inform… What would they tell them?

You take a swig of water before picking up the pills, swallowing them all down in one. Knowing how quick the sleeping aids helped yesterday, you’re aware there’s only a limited time before you’ll feel the effects kick in.

“Well, goodnight, Leon.”

“Wait a sec.” He pulls the cloth off his shoulders and hurriedly dries his hands as you watch on, curiously. He fiddles with the watch around his wrist, pressing a button on the side, then undoing the strap before he holds it out to you. “Here, so you can tell the time. I know there’s no clock in there, so…”

You stare at the offering, not raising your hand to take it. “But what about you?”

“Got my cell.” He pats his pocket, then holds the watch out again. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

You step forward to take it, gripping it a little too tightly in your fingers. It must be your imagination because it feels warm, but that can’t be right.

“Sleep well, Dove.”

Without another thought, you lean up on your tip-toes and press a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

“Thank you.”

You swivel on your heels and walk into the bedroom, closing the door without looking back, missing out on the sight of a flustered DSO agent in the kitchen.

If it wasn’t for the sleeping pills now coursing their way through your system, you would’ve been up for hours longer, heart pounding at what you just did. Instead, you climb into bed, close your eyes and it isn’t long at all until sleep washes over you, his watch still clasped in your hand.

--

Leon’s phone finally vibrates with Hunnigan’s caller ID as he enters back into the living area after finishing his perimeter check. Had to do two rounds of the building because he knew he was too distracted on the first by your kiss, admonishing himself for being so put out of joint by a simple gesture. After his second, more thorough check of the area and confident there was still no sign of any unwanted guests, he’d headed back into the building, making sure everything was locked up before he answered the call – placing the phone up to his ear on the opposite cheek that you had kissed.

“Hunnigan!” He answers, a little too jovial, would lower if his voice if he wasn’t confident you’ll be fast asleep by the amount of time that’s passed since you took your medication. “I was getting worried you’d forgotten all about me.”

“I’m sure.” Her voice is a little tense, but he can tell she’s tired. “Just finished your report.”

“And?”

“Well, it’s not exactly airtight.”

He rubs the bridge of his nose, holding in a sigh. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?”

“That’s why I’ve put Dove in a safehouse with you, rather than in a cell.”

“So, restrictions remain?”

“Restrictions remain.”

He rolls his eyes, grateful it’s not a video call. “Did you search her place?”

“Unfortunately not. The President wanted the surveillance department back up and running ASAP, so all available manpower had been diverted to that. The tech analyst, however, has confirmed that the breach on the database yesterday wasn’t what you’d call successful.”

Leon walks around the sofa, drops on it a little too heavy. “You don’t sound particularly thrilled by that.”

 “I’m not - the attempt itself was successful, but as soon as the system detected the forced entry, it wiped itself. Every subject that was still under surveillance has been lost.”

“Maybe that’s what they were trying to achieve.” He frowns. “Is there seriously no back-up server?”

“Analyst seemed to think it was their protocol, but it’s just a theory. Everyone who knew exactly how that division had their server set up is no longer with us.”

There’s a pause and he can hear Hunnigan tapping away at her keyboard as usual. “There is something I need to inform you of, though.”

“Right.”

“The tech analyst found the CCTV feeds have been tapped. They couldn’t trace where the feed was being diverted to, but it was definitely a system not within the DSO infrastructure. It’d been active since the attack, but they cut the connection when they discovered it.”

Leon frowns. “So, you’re saying that whoever orchestrated the attack could’ve been watching the cameras since.”

“Mm.”

“And if their objective was to leave no survivors…” Leon’s eyes focus on your bedroom door.

Hunnigan stops typing. “They’ll know they’ve failed.”

--

Part seven.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[marvelous-bamf]

we all basically know that frank didnt kill hector, but i just wanted to hash it out logically to really drive it home

the conflict: frank never kills people he thinks are innocent, and hector was innocent. given that, heres our options:

One: frank has just completely lost his moral compass. definitely not this, because his code is the entire point of the punisher and what makes him compelling

Two: hector is secretly guilty. obviously not true either.

Three: frank thinks hector is guilty: could conceivably be true but probably not. none of the possible reasons for him thinking that make much sense but lets go through them anyways

-he obviously doesnt think that non-killing masked vigilantes should die (lol), so its not a white tiger thing.

-so maybe he thinks that hector actually did intentionally kill that cop. first, im not convinced he would go out of his way to kill him just for that. generally he goes after ones who hurt people who cant defend themselves.

-but okay, say frank would kill hector for killing the cop and thinks the court was wrong. he would at least do his due diligence before killing him. just the fact that matt defended him should be a hint that theres something going on here. vague punisher season 2 spoilers, but there was a whole thing where frank thought he had accidentally killed innocent people and he instantly lost it and couldnt live with himself. circumstances were a bit different, but the point stands: frank doesnt kill people unless hes sure, because he cant stand it otherwise. and hes also not an idiot who is easily misled to who is guilty.

-if frank really did get tricked into killing an innocent man, when he was easily capable of finding out the truth, its going to fuck up his character bad. reckoning with that is going to be like the whole rest of the series for him. not to mention that matt is going to be far too pissed to want to work with him, so there goes daredevil/punisher teamup for no reason. or...

Four: it's not frank. the faceless man is a punisher groupie cop who is willing to kill anyone he thinks gets in the way of the police. you know, like they already tried to do to matt and his witness. and that they already tried on hector once. the thing thats been hinted at for two episodes, makes narrative sense, and is consistent with the characters. and as a bonus perfectly sets up the teamup we already know is coming.

so, yeah. im pretty dang sure its not frank.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Never Again

Beau Arlen & daughter!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: Beau never wanted his life as a cop to affect your safety, but he doesn’t always get what he wants.

“That wasn’t the agreement, Beau, it was—“

“I know what the ‘agreement’ was, if you could call it that, but things have changed!” Beau didn’t often get too heated with his ex wife—he let her do the belittling and he didn’t say much against it. But this was different. This was about you.

“Seriously? What, you get a little overprotective and we just throw out what we agreed on?”

Beau ground his teeth, trying to calm down.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that she’d be safer at my place until all of this blows over.”

“Safer? What, with you out all day and—“

“Don’t pretend you’re home anymore than I am,” Beau cut in. “And if need be, she can come to the office with me.”

Silence filled the phone for several agonizing seconds.

“This is really serious, isn’t it?” She said finally.

“I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t.”

“And you’re not going to back down?”

“You know I won’t. Not when it comes to her safety.”

“Fine then. She can stay with you, but just until this all goes away.”

Beau sighed. He hated how against his ex was with him having custody, and he knew that soon enough there would probably need to be some sort of custody battle if he wanted more time with you, which he did. But for now, he’d settle with having you safe at his place for a few days.

“Thank you. I’ll pick her up from school this afternoon.”

“Fine.”

Beau was almost surprised that his ex hung up without a crack about you being disappointed when he showed up instead of her. There’d been plenty of those lately. Although Beau supposed she was getting tired of it, especially since they both knew it wasn’t true; you’d always been your dad’s daughter.

…

Beau arrived at your school at exactly three, eager to get you to his place quickly. He waited in his car, looking around for your familiar green backpack. Five minutes went by. Then ten.

It was nearing four o’clock when Beau finally decided to head inside. At first he’d just figured that you were held up by friends, but this was too long.

Beau made his way through the halls, scanning for you through the hoards of teenagers loitering near lockers as he went. He didn’t see you the whole way to the office, and when he went inside he inquired with the first person he saw—a young woman seated behind a computer.

“Y/N Arlen…” she repeated in a mumble, her brow drawn in concentration as she typed on her desktop. “Yes, here it is. Her uncle brought in a note to get her out of classes early. She left during lunch, about four hours ago.”

Beau’s heart sank to his toes, and in its absence his chest constricted. All the breath left his body as though he’d been thrown to the floor, and for a long, agonizing moment he forgot how to breathe.

“Sir?”

The voice of the woman snapped him back to attention.

“You just let some random man take my daughter?”

She looked taken aback.

“He—he had an ID, and his note had your signature on it. That is, if you’re the father—Beau Arlen?” The woman produced the note from her desk, and Beau snatched it up. It was his signature alright—and the forger was an expert. Beau knew deep down that he couldn’t blame the woman in front of him, but he couldn’t quite get that message to his panicked adrenaline.

“And you didn’t think to call me?” Before she could respond, Beau continued. “What did he look like? Where did they go?”

“I-uhh…” the woman faltered for a second before regaining composure. “We have security footage in the building as well as parts of the parking lot. We’ll be able to see him, if maybe not his vehicle.”

“Show me.”

The woman faltered again.

“We’re not really supposed to—“

A quick flash of his badge shut her up.

…

You woke up to the ground rattling beneath you. You tried to push yourself up, but your hands wouldn’t move right. There was a coarse…something, inhibiting your movement. You blinked your eyes open slowly, groaning at the pounding in your head.

You struggled to recall where you were or what was going on. Last you remember, you were at school…

You were called into the office…

You hadn’t been feeling very good this morning, so when the woman in the office told you you were being picked up, you didn’t stick around to hear the rest. You’d gone straight to the parking long, expecting to see either your mom, dad, or Avery; your mom’s new husband. Secretly, you were hoping for your dad.

Instead, a black SUV swerved in front of you. Before you could berate the driver for almost running you over, the side door swung open, and a man with dark hair and psycho-wide eyes grabbed you around the middle and dragged you inside. A foul-smelling cloth was pressed to your nose, and despite struggling for a couple of minutes, the chloroform took over and you were knocked out.

…

Beau got lucky—the security cameras had a good shot of both the kidnapper and his car.

He recognized the man immediately—the leader of a local cartel that Beau had been working for months to put away. It was pretty much the worst case scenario.

Halfway through watching the footage, Beau called up the department.

“Sheriff’s Department, how can I help you?”

“Poppernick, I need you to pull up traffic cameras of every road leading out of the county from the last four hours.

“Beau? What’s going—“

“Now! I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

…

Once realization set in, so did panic. You’d been kidnapped, straight out of school! Not to mention the kidnapper hadn’t bothered to put on a mask. That took a pretty gutsy criminal.

The motive wasn’t hard to figure out—with a cop for a dad and a lawyer for a mom, your family was pretty well acquainted with criminals. Besides, last time you’d visited your dad, he’d acted…off. He’d even hinted at you coming to stay with him for a bit. He must’ve been worried about a criminal case.

But the motive wasn’t your big problem.

“Hey, she’s awake.” A gruff voice invaded your ears as you felt yourself being twisted into sitting up. “Wakey wakey,” the voice taunted, his rough hand slapping your face, making your eyes snap open. “There we go.”

It was the man who’d dragged you into the car. He had short dark hair and a twisted smirk that accentuated the scar running from under his eye to his chin.

You glanced around the interior of the car to see just one other person—the driver. Apparently he was more skittish, because he was sporting a ski mask.

You opened your mouth to speak, only to discover that a thick cloth was stuffed in your mouth, and no sound escaped.

Scar Man’s grin twisted wider at your struggles.

“If you scream, I’ll slit your throat,” he threatened before lowering the gag.

“What do you want?” You demanded after taking in a gulp of air.

“What’d you take the gag off for?” Ski Mask asked after hearing your voice.

“Gotta make sure her dad gets a good look at his little brat.” The kidnapper chuckled. “You think she looks banged up enough?”

The driver spared a glance back before shrugging.

“You could rough her up a bit. But don’t go nuts, we gotta give her old man a chance to do what we say before we really mess her up.”

…

Beau was halfway to the department when it hit him. He would have to call his ex.

“Not until I’ve got more to go on,” he muttered to himself. He knew that wasn’t the real reason; he couldn’t bare to call the mother of his child and tell her that he had let you be taken. He couldn’t admit that to anyone, much less to the woman that broke his heart. It would make it too real.

…

Your body felt like a pulsing mass of pain. If Scar Man had taken it easy on you, you didn’t want to know what him taking it seriously was. Every square inch of you felt bruised, but you noticed that he took particular care to mark up your face and arms—the most visible places. You were now tied to a hard metal chair, the ropes around your wrists far too tight. Moving your arms even slightly sent pain shooting up your wrists from where the rope rubbed your skin raw.

“That should just about do it,” the dark haired man said with a grin. “Now for the finishing touch…”

You tried to move away from him when he pulled out a large knife, but it was futile. You whimpered as he dragged a long cut across your cheek, and you vaguely registered that it seemed to match his own.

“Perfect,” he said with a chuckle. “Now to show it off to dear old dad.”

…

“I’ve got the footage, what am I looking for?” Poppernick wasted no time when Beau entered the department, which he appreciated.

“Black SUV, Honda civic. License plate 23J OV3.”

During the silence while Poppernick went to work, Beau felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. He pulled it out reluctantly, assuming it was his ex wife checking to see if he’d picked you up.

Once he saw the image, he wished it had been her.

Beau staggered back, his feet no longer able to hold him up. Thankfully, the back of his knees collided with a chair, and he fell back into it.

“Sheriff?” Poppernick looked away from his computer, and jumped to his feet when he saw the paper-white tone and utter terror in his boss’s face. “Beau!”

Beau’s hand went limp, and Poppernick grabbed the phone before it could fall to the ground. He took one look at the image and his face turned a slightly greenish tint.

“Oh gosh.”

“What’s going on?” Jenny Hoyt asked immediately after stepping inside, noticing the palpable panic and disgust.

“They…” Poppernick couldn’t even speak, he just showed Jenny the photo. She swallowed, trying hard to keep her composure.

“Quentin, right?” She asked through gritted teeth, referring to the cartel leader that Beau had been after. The very name seemed to snap Beau back into focus. He sat up ramrod-straight in his chair and turned to Poppernick.

“Finish the trace. Now!”

Poppernick didn’t argue, and after a moment longer…

“I got something.”

…

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Scar Man taunted as he put the camera down. “Soon enough you’ll be back with your daddy, and I’ll have him off my back for good.”

You tried to ignore him, too busy trying to breathe through the pain. But his last statement caught your attention.

“You’re…you’re gonna let me go?”

A harsh grip on your chin had you wishing you hadn’t spoken, but the man just tilted your head up and grinned down at you.

“If our dear sheriff cooperates, and you’re incredibly lucky, then yes.” He dropped his hand and turned to leave without another word.

You wanted to believe him, to hope, but the crazed look in his eyes contrasted his words.

…

Hoyt, Beau, and Poppernick were gathered around Pop’s computer screen, tracking the black SUV, when Beau’s phone rang. He answered the unknown number immediately.

“Beau Arlen,” he said instinctively, then waited with bated breath for a response. While Pop had been working, Hoyt had set up a tap on Beau’s cell phone, and he was prepared to keep the kidnapper on the line as long as possible to get the trace.

“Nice to finally speak to you, Sheriff,” said a voice that chilled Beau Arlen to his core. “I’ve got a sweet little thing that belongs to you who would just love to see you again.”

Beau but back a thousand threats that wanted to escape his lips, and instead went for a smarter question.

“What do you want?”

“Nice and direct, I like that.”

Beau inwardly cursed himself for not stalling—maybe he should’ve went with a threat—but he also didn’t want to make the kidnapper angry.

“What I want—“ the kidnapper continued, “is for you to back off the investigation long enough for me to disappear. It’s reasonable—more reasonable than you should expect in your position. My cartel is out of your little town, your kid gets home safe, and I get my freedom.”

“Yeah, to go terrorize someone else’s town,” Beau spit out.

“Well they’re not you’re concern, sheriff. This is.”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, and then—

“Dad?”

Beau’s heart lodged in his throat.

“Baby?”

“Dad, don’t—“

“And there’s your proof of life.” Your voice was cut off, replaced by the kidnapper. “Now do we have a deal?”

“I don’t negotiate with kidnappers.”

A chilling laugh echoed across the line. “Well then I hope you got a good last look at your daughter.”

…

“Dad, don’t—“ Ski Mask covered your mouth as Scar Man pulled back the phone to continue talking. Once you stilled, he let you go. Your gaze never left the phone in the dark haired man’s hand, desperate to hear your father’s voice.

You needed him more than you ever had, and you knew even just a few words from his voice would help calm you. You’d been trying hard not to panic, but knowing that your father was just barely out of your reach had tears pricking your eyes and despair stealing your breath.

You don’t know what your father said to the man, but his eyes were suddenly on you as a terrifying laugh shook his frame.

“Well then I hope you got a good last look at your daughter.”

A knife was suddenly in his hands, and you didn’t know where it had come from.

“No, please,” you whimpered as he advanced on you, lifting the knife above you.

…

“Wait, wait!” Beau demanded as he heard your panicked pleas on the other end.

“Yes?” The kidnapper said.

“I want to talk to her.”

“Don’t stall, sheriff. I know you’re trying to trace the line. I need a yes or a no, and I need it now unless you want me to start carving into this little girl.”

“I…” Beau glanced helplessly at his people, who were waiting for his response. “Ok. It’s a deal.”

“Good. You’ll get the address to where she’s being held as soon as I’m out of the country.”

The line went dead.

“You’re not really gonna let them go, are you,” Hoyt asked.

“Pop, what do you got?” Beau ignored Jenny’s question and focused on Pop’s computer.

“Nothing on the trace, there wasn’t enough time. But I’m still following the route that the SUV took, so far it’s still in sight of traffic cams.”

“So you were just stalling for time?” Jenny tried to clarify.

“We can’t let them go,” Beau said.

“Are you sure?” Jenny said hesitantly. “We don’t want to put Y/N in—“

“You don’t get it.” Beau shook his head. “This guy’s MO, his track record…he’s lying. He’s not gonna let her live. We need to find them.”

…

The kidnappers ignored you for a while after the phone call, busying themselves with packing the meager belongings they had into the back of a truck.

“What about her?” Ski Mask asked, nodding his head at you. “We gonna leave her here for her dad?”

“Let her live?” Scar Man chuckled. “What’s the fun in that?”

…

“I’ve got it!”

Beau jumped out of his seat at Pop’s outburst.

“Where are they?” He demanded, leaning over Pop’s chair to look at his screen.

“Well, I don’t have an exact location, but they turned down this road.” Pop ran his finger along the map open on one side of his screen, while the other side showed the black SUV turning down a dirt road. “And that’s where the cameras stop, they don’t go down side roads.”

“What’s over there?”

“Not much.” Pop shrugged. “A couple of warehouses.”

“Perfect, let’s go. Hoyt, you’re with me.”

…

Knowing that someone plans to kill you is an odd thing. You watch every move they make, no matter how innocent, waiting to see if he’s going to strike. Is he reaching for a knife, or his phone? Is he grabbing his bag, or the gun next to it? You never knew which breath would be your last, which thought would be the last one you’d ever think.

You wondered if your dad would ever find you. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to or not. Seeing your body would kill him, but never getting closure could, too.

You shook the thought away. You definitely didn’t want that to be your last. You’d never thought about it before; what you wanted to be thinking about when you died.

“I think that’s it.”

You were snapped out of your reverie when Ski Mask spoke.

“Great. Now for the fun part.” Scar Man picked up a curved knife from a metal table as he spoke.

You started to struggle against your ropes despite the pain of your raw, bleeding wrists.

“No.” You began to cry as though you were already dead, and you were mourning yourself. “Please, please don’t do this.” Perhaps you were crying because you knew it was futile; there was no sympathy or mercy in this man, you could see it in his eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to continue to beg, too afraid to even speak.

You’d never thought about what you wanted your last thought to be. Even so, the memory came to you instantly; the perfect one.

You were little, maybe six or seven. Your parents were together and in love, and your father hadn’t been broken by grief. The three of you were painting your room, because you’d finally chosen a favorite color to paint over the white that had been there since you were a baby.

You tried to help, but your parents just ended up painting over the mess you made. Your mom was working on painting one wall, while your dad was making his own version of an enchanted forest on another. He’d already done several mushrooms, and now he was working on a fairy.

“What is that, a flying toad?” Your mom asked with a laugh.

“It’s the fairy princess!” Beau said, staring at her open-mouthed in mock offense.

“It looks like a toad.”

You giggled at your mother’s words, and Beau snatched you into his arms.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” You squealed and squirmed in his arms as he started to tickle you. “You think it’s funny?”

“Stohop!” You giggled, and after a moment Beau stopped, but he kept you in his arms.

“What do you think, huh?”

“I like the fairy princess,” you insisted.

“See?” Beau grinned.

“That doesn’t count,” your mother countered. “She likes you better.”

“And she understands a masterpiece when she sees it,” Beau said. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?

“Y/N?

“Y/N!”

Your daydream vanished as the very voice you’d been thinking about echoed across the warehouse.

“Dad!” You were still crying, now from relief. Your father was running across the room, gun in hand.

“Get away from her!” Beau aimed the gun at Scar Man, who had the knife clutched in his fist. “Drop the knife!”

Scar Man, psycho eyes wide and enraged, lunged for you, the knife raised.

Two shots rang out, and Scar Man staggered back before slumping to the ground.

Ski Mask lifted his hands in surrender, and Hoyt went over to arrest him.

Beau wasted no time in putting his gun away and running to you.

“Dad.”

“I’ve got you.” Beau offered you a strained smile as he got to work on the ropes binding you. You didn’t realize how much you were leaning against the restraints until they were gone, and you all but fell out of your chair.

Beau held you up, letting you fall against him and bury your face against his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he repeated again and again. “You’re safe, I’m here.”

You clung to him despite the way his jacket scratched at the raw part of your wrists. Your body shook with sobs, and Beau held you tightly, rubbing your back and letting you cry against him.

“Hey,” his grip slackened as he pulled back enough to look at you. His hands framed your face, and the cool texture of his hands eased the pain of your bruises. His thumb brushed feather-light against the cut on your cheek, so gentle that you didn’t even flinch. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

Beau kept a hand on you the whole way to the car, unwilling to let you go for even a second.

“Can we go home?” You asked, clinging to your dad’s arm.

“We’ve gotta go to the hospital first,” Beau sighed.

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “I wanna go home.”

Beau stared at you for a long moment. Proper procedure told him to take you to the hospital, then the station for some questions.

But his fatherly instincts were telling him to take his baby girl home and do whatever she needed to feel safe.

The latter won out.

…

By the time Beau reached his place, his phone had been blowing up with texts and calls, probably from Hoyt and Pop, but he ignored them other than a quick text to both telling them he was ok and headed home.

The texts continued after that, but Beau turned his phone off.

“Do you want to go to your mom?” He asked gently, not quite sure what you’d meant by “home”.

You didn’t hesitate.

“No. Your place.”

He got you to his trailer in record time, and he led you inside and to the couch. Your eyes never left him as he went to get your favorite blanket and drape it around your shoulders.

“I’m gonna get you some ice for those bruises, ok?” Beau didn’t give you a chance to respond as he went to get the ice. He returned a moment later, and you put the ice pack up against one of the worse bruises on your face. “Do you want me to make you some food?” He asked.

You shook your head, reaching your free hand out to him without speaking.

Beau got the message. He sat down next to you on the couch and wrapped you into his arms, the soft fluff of the blanket around you brushing against his arms, and your hair tickling his chin as he tucked your head under it.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. “No one’s ever gonna hurt you again.”

“Don’t go,” you pleaded.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” Beau lifted a hand to the back of your head. He found himself rocking you back and forth slowly, and the ghost of a smile lifted his lips when he heard your gentle, relaxed breathing for the first time since you’d been taken.

Time stopped when he was like this, with you. He might’ve been holding you for five minutes or five hours, it didn’t matter to him. He was pretty sure you fell asleep at some point, but he didn’t move, determined to never let you go again.

[bloodyminyard]

what the fuck is up with jeremy knox? what we know from tsc

keeps receipts for everything (writing the cash tip he gives on the receipt as well; reference to Jeremy having to "jump through hoops" to give Cat and Laila money for rent/groceries without his stepfather knowing)

has issues with his older brother Bryson (avoids confrontation with him "would rather leave his keys" and was "too tired and sore to put himself through that") (William The Butler helps Jere avoid him) (comparison to Jean? "if Jean was already asleep, bryson might be too" could be irrelevant tho)

there was a "scandal" Jeremy's freshman year at USC (his sister Annalise mentioning "end the way you started" in reference to jean's tranfer causing a scandal)

Annalise hates exy, but she used to go to all Jeremy's games in high school, but "never forgiven him for sticking with it"

"the fall banquet that broke their family in half"

he is/was in therapy (cat also says “the right therapist can be life changing, take jeremy for proof”, what was jere like before therapy?)

Jere does not fuck with his step-grandpa (annalise saying "what's grandpa think of this investment of yours?" and jere responding "he is not our grandfather")

annalise also states that Jeremy "destroyed the family"

Jeremy also walks annalise out and opens her car door for her? it may be just a nice Jeremy thing but it struck me as weird bc she’s being mean to him lol, like does Jeremy feel the need to wait on his sister for some reason? perhaps out of guilt?

he doesn't like being called "Knox"

weird about cops (avoids walking past them; "there was little to no chance he'd know them, and no reason they'd recognize him") (possibly means he's had interactions with cops before/regularly?)

secret sibling? we don’t know for sure how many siblings he has, my assumption is four, the two we know about (older brother Bryson, younger sister Annalise) and another unnamed brother that Cat mentions, she hesitates before saying three siblings, but then says “there’s bound to be a jerk or two once you pass four kids” (in reference to bryson) directly after she says he only has three siblings, cat ur not very good at this does he have three or more pick a side

Jeremy is "permanently on his stepfather's bad side" (his words)

he was uninvited from family dinners for a week bc of him dyeing his hair (generally points to him having to keep up certain appearances but i will lend that more to the whole “family of a politician” thing, but could be relevant)

so theories?

i’ve seen just general homophobia being a theory but to me it doesn’t fit with the vibes

with the keeping track of what he spends his money on i’ve also seen him possibly having a drug problem

the secret sibling is very interesting, are they dead? did jeremy have something to do with it? maybe secret twin????

i keep going back to annalise hating exy tho, what does exy have to do with it???????